All Change
by Gemmadog
Summary: Sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want it to. It's about making the most of what you have.
1. Chapter 1

**All Change**

**Chapter 1**

_**Halcyon Days**_

She'd never felt like this before. Ever. She was hoping the huge grin on her face wasn't too obvious, and that no one could guess the reason for her happiness.

"You look excited to be going back Mols?" Smurf shouted at her over the roar of the helicopter. She was obviously fooling no one. He sat close, a bit too close, apparently, he said so they could hear each other, but she uncomfortably suspected it was for a completely different reason.

She took a minute to reply, looking at the dusty vista around them. The heat was unreal, even at this early hour, it was just as she remembered it. How she had remembered it every night she'd been away. Every day of those two weeks she had thought of this place. Despite the luxury of showers, TV, peace and quiet she still wished to be back here, and then suddenly it was all over. Her leave had come to an end. She was on her way back. Back to the sand, the noise, the danger, but despite all that she was happy. More than happy. She was going back and would see him again. 

"Yeah. Mental ain't it?" She shouted back over the roar of the helicopter. Trying to rein in the bubble of joy she felt as the miles were eaten away and they got closer. 

Smurf just grinned back at her, and she could see that he was happy. She guessed he was happy being anywhere as long as Molly was there, he'd made that very clear, but he was her mate, that's all she saw when she looked at him and she'd made it very obvious that's all she wanted. Yet as she looked across at his grin she doubted he'd listened or even saw it that way. 

"Five minutes." The pilot shouted. "Then out straight away. I'm behind on my rota. Need to go."

"What no stopping for a cup of tea and cakes Sir?" Smurf shouted cheekily back.

She rolled her eyes at him, but laughed at him all the same. Smurf always made her laugh. 

She hadn't needed to be asked twice, pretending to be the obedient solider she rarely was. She too wanted to leave the helicopter as quickly as possible, to be back in the FOB, back to where she had dreamed about being. She was surprised at the nerves she felt as she jumped out of the helicopter causing her knees almost to buckle. She stumbled and Smurf gallantly helped her out and up, then both of them did as they were told and ran towards the FOB, just about hearing the shouts of welcome from the rest of the section.

Two weeks without him, without seeing him smile, without hearing his voice. Two weeks since that day, the day her heart was stolen, the day he held her hand and looked deeply into her eyes, asking her to come back to him. Two weeks since she realised just how in deep she was with her Bossman, and how maybe just maybe he felt the same too. And now those two week were up and she'd see him again. 

The gates opened and she immediately scanned around for him. Expecting him to be there to greet her. It was no easy task though as she was mobbed instantly by the rest of two section after news and the goodies she'd brought back for them. All noisily happy to see their favourite medic and mate return. She scanned around her as best she could for her Captain. She wanted to see him, no needed to see him. She had a gift for him too. 

It was minutes before she was left relatively alone and still hadn't caught sight of him. She felt disappointed that he wasn't there to greet her, she'd expected it after their separation, but reasoned to herself that he'd be busy. 

Her hand over with Jacqui in the Med tent was quick and easy, and she scanned the report sheets for treatments in her absence. Her review was interrupted. She smiled at her visitor, and then in general conversation he told her the news, casualty, not realising how his words hurt her. At first she didn't understand it, struggled to process what he was trying saying. It was not what she'd been expecting. She'd wanted to come back, back to him, but not like this. 

"So he's gone then has he?" Smurf asked Eggy as he entered the tent with true surprise in his voice, watching Molly as he did so. "Definitely not coming back? Shit. That's tough." 

"What?" Molly asked looking between them. She needed to hear it again, to be sure. "What was that about the Bossman?" She needed to catch up on the conversation. 

"He's gone Mols." Eggy explained again. "Some type of family crisis. Tours over for him. Flew back last week." 

She did her best and smiled, muttering something appropriate. Listening a bit more how they'd get a new Captain, and would start heading back to Bastion in the morning. Then she made an excuse to leave the crowded tent heading to the sleeping quarters to pack. Smurf followed her closely. She didn't know how she did It, but she did, she acted normally. She functioned just as she should have done even though inside her heart was breaking. 

Her Bossman. Her Captain James had gone. Home, she wouldn't be seeing him again. Any hopes and ideas of a fairytale romance were over. Her dreams finished just like that. 

_**Reality **_

He knew it was her instantly. He didn't need a second glance. She was just as familiar to him and his senses as she had once been. Knowing that it was close to sixteen years since he'd last seen her, it seemed crazy that he still knew her at all.

It was her beautiful green eyes that he first recognised, even from the distance. They still sparkled, just like he remembered them, just like they had that very last time he'd looked into them. That last time that he had ever seen her, before his life went wrong. Of course he'd seen them so many times since then, though only in his dreams, and today the reality of them showed they were just as perfect as before.

She moved around easily, unaware of his gaze. Her hair was long, loose and floated on the summer breeze. He imagined it would smell of her flowery shampoo the way it used to back in the FOB. She was beautiful, the first time too he realised he'd seen her wear anything but Army clothes or her football shirt and shorts. It surprised him, but pleased him, to see her in a long summer dress, looking so a confident in whom she was.

And then she laughed. Her youthful infectious laugh, how it took him back. He'd imagined seeing her, meeting her, so many times over the years as he had day dreamed his life away. In the early days he had hopes of bumping into her around camps or garrison towns, but never did. They never saw one another again. He mused if she'd even recognise him. If she'd ever given him a passing thought in the past 16 years. He'd changed.. a lot... he was no longer the man she once knew. He doubted she'd know him now, especially as this wasn't the usual type of place that he attended. So he didn't hold out any hopes. In fact today he'd only come to support his son. Sam. Who was now his world. See her was just a bonus. 

He spent many more minutes watching her. Noticing she had still the ability to draw his eyes to her without her even trying. She was older, obviously just like him. More mature, but just as beautiful and just as lively as he remembered. And he had a lot... remembered that is. He remembered their days on tour. Those five months he had spent with her and the rest of the section, and how very quickly she had started to become something of importance to him. Above and beyond his expected duty of care he needed to give to someone in his chain of command. He cared about her... a lot. She gotten under his skin, broken down the walls he'd built up around his heart. He, was pretty certain he'd fallen for her... hard and had wanted more. Had wanted to get to know her, but then his life changed, and he never got the chance. 

The excitement, the chance of a new future taken away from him on that tour, taken from her. Called back suddenly to deal with a family emergency he'd left while she was still on leave, giving him no chance to explain, to say goodbye . He never saw her again, never returning back to his section or even to her. The mess his life was turned into by that one phone call changed everything. The course of their histories. He left, and she was gone from his life forever. Until, by some trick Lady Luck played on him, today. 

"Dad." Sam shouted at him from the edge of the field, waving and breaking him out of his thoughts . "Over here." 

Charles raised his hand and waved at his son. His everything. Now a grown up man with a new career ahead of him Charles wondered how he'd cope with the Sam sized hole in his life once he moved out for good. For the past sixteen years Charles had dedicated everything to his son, but now he was striking out on his own. Making his own life. 

"Thanks Dad for coming." Sam grinned as he pulled his Dad in for a hug. Charles gladly returned it. 

They were close these two. Very close. The events of their lives bonding them more so, that even at the grand age of 23 he still felt comfortable in going in for a hug with his dad. No matter where or who was about. 

"Of course I came." Charles said. "Don't I always." He laughed. 

It was true since a very early age Charles had been there for Sam. Had to be, there was no other parent he could depend on. And so they had worked as a team, a unit. Best friends as well as father and son. 

Today was just one of the many events that Charles had attended to support Sam. He'd been to them all. School plays, sports days, prize givings, degree ceremonies, and finally today's event... a school summer fete. 

After Sam had gained his degree at Bristol he expressed the desire to become a teacher. So one year's further study to get his post graduate teaching qualification he was now in the probationary stage of teaching at this inner city school in central London. By all accounts he was loving it, and was doing well. Still needing constant mentoring, assessing and guidance, but well on the way to having a successful teaching career. He was spoken highly of by everyone who came into contact with. 

He still wanted to impress though. Learnt from his father, from a very early age that first impressions were always important, and so he volunteered to help with today's fete. An opportunity to socialise with the other teachers and assessors informally, and to show his Dad around his new work environment. 

"I can't wait for you to meet the other teachers." Sam gushed. "They are a great bunch. Plus you have to meet my personal assessor. Amazing." 

Sam almost pulled him through the crowds. Happily greeting the odd student as they passed by. It amused Charles to hear these teenagers addressing his Sam as Sir. The son who he still saw as a baby himself. He mused it had been a long time since anyone had called him Sir. 

Within minutes Sam had brought him face to face with a group of his new colleagues. They chatted politely to Charles, complimenting him on his son. It made him proud. Soon though one by one they started to excuse themselves, summer fete duties called, and when it was just him and Sam again he caught site of her, walking towards him. She was wiping her hands on a towel focusing on that task and on smiling to any pupil that caught her attention. Her smile was as wonderful as he remembered. 

"Molly." Sam shouted and she stepped towards him. Charles, half hidden behind his son, who's stature out stripped him, was not instantly visible. "I'd like to introduce my Dad." 

Charles stepped forward and before Sam had the opportunity to say more than his name Molly spoke up. 

"Bloody hell. Captain James? Bossman?" Then after the slightest hesitation she broke out into an even broader smile. 

Charles returned it.

"Hello Dawes." Was all he said but feeling happier than he had for a very long time. Happy that she'd recognised him, she hadn't forgotten him.

"What you guys know each other?" Sam asked totally confused. "Dad this is Molly my assessor/mentor." He explained. "Molly." 

"Yeah we do know each other Sam." Molly said giggling, and turned to look directly at Charles saying. "He was me CO on my first tour. Good to see you again Sir." And then they just stared at each other. 

"Really? Wow. You were in the Army?" Sam said. "You never said." 

"Yeah well." Said Molly turning to him. "It was another life time mate." And just for the briefest of moments her eyes spoke to Charles only, he knew not what, but there was something said that past between them. 

"Good to see you again Dawes." Charles beamed back offering to shake her hand. She awkwardly accepted it, offering a damp hand to his firm grip. Looking at her he knew. He'd never said a truer word, it was so good to see her again. Up close he saw she still looked the same, he still saw the same old Molly, a bit more polished, more sophisticated, in fact she'd become the woman he'd always suspect she would be... brilliant. 

"So your Sam's Dad then Sir?" She giggled, breaking her hand and gaze from him. Both had been held marginally too long. "I can see the resemblance now." She said thoughtfully. 

"So...Dawes... how come you're here. You didn't stay in then?" Charles asked smiling away. Today was a good day for him. 

"It's Molly by the way, but no Sir. Stayed in for a while. Enough to gain a few qualifications and that, but came out in the end. That's how I come to be here. Training teachers like your Sam." 

"Sounds perfect for you." Charles said. 

"Well I don't do perfect. Never have, but I love my job. Mentoring and assessing learners." She added. "Your Sam's a good 'un. It's ones like him that make my job easy. Sir." 

Just at that that moment Sam was pulled away leaving the pair of them to talk on their own. They moved, with some written agreement over to a bench under some trees. Shaded by the hot midday sun they sat tantalisingly close, side by side. 

"That's good to hear." Charles spoke as soon as they sat down. "And it's Charles." 

"Charles?" She smiled back, giggling a little. "Well I never knew that!" 

They stayed silent for a few seconds and then she continued. 

"Mind you there were a few things I didn't know about you. Then any way." Eventually she added. "You just left." She hesitated. "Never even knew you were married until well, quite a while after." 

He didn't know where to begin. They had not even started all those years ago, yet she had and still did mean something to him. He needed her to know it hadn't been some crazy power trip he'd been on. That he had cared. 

"Separated. Divorced actually. At the time." He hoped that would explain some of the things. 

She nodded.

"Oh. You never said." 

She had been heart broken when he'd left, the rest of the tour hard and lonely for her. She'd lost a friend as well as someone she cared about. For many years she replayed that moment when he'd seemed be promising her everything. When he held her hand and gazed at her like she meant the world to him. When he asked her to come back to him. Spinning it over in her mind wondering if she had misunderstood it all. Eventually only understanding that she had done what he'd asked, she'd come back to him...but when she did he was gone. 

"I left." He tried to explain. "There was an urgent family problem at home. I needed to leave. Has Sam never said?" 

"No why would he? I never knew who he was until just now." She wondered at just what he meant. What he wasn't telling her. 

It was becoming awkward and she knew why. He was she guessed her first love, she'd loved him like she'd never loved anyone before. She'd always believed that. She idolised him, had a major crush on him and had dreamed of all the possibilities for them. Even hoped when she got back off tour he'd come and find her. Yet he never did and the day she learnt he was married, her silly day dreams came crashing down and ended.

That was why it was awkward, she'd had dreams of a life with a man who obviously never saw her in the same way. She felt foolish about her feelings then, and those feelings were returning as they sat and talked. 

"So what about you Sir,... I mean Charles? You still in? The Army I mean." 

He blinked at her slowly realising she knew nothing about him. That her life had just kept on turning without him, she'd obviously never given him a second thought. 

"No. God no. Sadly. I got out just after that tour. Personal reasons and that. Work in the city now." 

"Oh! I didn't know." Then suddenly she added. Needed to understand if he knew. "Smurf. He died you know?" 

"Yes...I did... I'm sorry. I know you were close." Charles said quietly noting the shocked look on her face.

He'd learnt of Smurf's death but at the time was too wrapped up in his own personal traumas to take it on board. Unable to grieve for the young soldier because Charles just didn't have the luxury at that time of his life to feel anything about any one apart from his family. 

"He was my best mate." She continued. Hurt by his admission. "We all thought we'd see you at the funeral." She questioned. "You never came?" She thought briefly back to that awful day of sadness, where a large part of her hope she'd see him again. That they'd be able to talk, recover what they had. But he'd never shown up and Molly knew her daydreams were completely over. He was avoiding her. 

"No. Sorry. I wanted to. Just couldn't." It sounded selfish. Inadequate and in truth it probably was, but there was no changing the past. 

"No one knew what had happened to you after that." She admitted. "You kind of just disappeared." Omitting the part where she had asked friends, colleagues of his over the years about him as casually as she could. No one ever knew, and then she just stopped asking. It was kinder to her heart that way. 

"Guess I did." He sadly looked down at his shoes. He wanted to tell her so much but couldn't. He had stories to tell that weren't his own to share.

"Anyway." She attempted brightness. "We all went on... you know living our lives without you." And even though her words were meant to be said in jest they still hurt to hear.

"I can see that. You look well Molly. Really well. This." He waved his hand around the school field. "Obviously suits you."

"Love it. Army taught me a lot of things, but the one big thing it did show me was that I love to teach."

"I'm glad. Mind you I could have told you that. You always loved the sound of your own voice out there Dawes." With this they both laughed.

Suddenly they slipped into the old comfortable feelings they once had had for each other.

"I was a bit of a bloody nightmare. Wasn't I?" She quietly spoke.

He turned his head to look at her.

"Can't say you were the most obedient of the section, but no you weren't a nightmare."

She shoulders bump him with hers. Smiling.

"Thanks. Reckon I was though. Bet you were pleased to see the back of me when you left."

He stopped smiling

"No Molly. Leaving was hard for all sorts of reasons, but never, not once was I pleased to leave you behind. It hurt."

Her eyes widen in shock to his words. Her mouth about to form some words.

"So this is where you are?" A male voice interrupted them. "Escaped from the washing up duty have you?" Then spotting Charles he added. "Oh hello."

Immediately she changed, her face looking up at the stranger instantly. Smoothing her hair and pulling her face into a happy smile.

He was not as tall as Charles. Late thirties, and sharp looking. Charles through years of practice sized him up and knew he had more of a claim on Molly than he ever had.

"Pete. This is Sam's Dad, and my old CO. Charles James." She introduced them perfectly.

The two men shook hands firmly, and briefly Molly felt as though they both were involved in a pissing contest with one another.

Pete then moved quickly to Molly's side pulling her in tightly for a kiss.

"This I believe belongs to you?" He offered her a beautiful ring which Molly took happily and put it on her third finger of her left hand.

"Thanks. Took it off for the washing up." She explained to them both.

"You're engaged? Wow. Congratulations." Charles offered with the most sincerity he could muster.

"Yeah thanks." Molly felt momentarily shy, but then beamed at Pete. "Four weeks today."

"Indeed. Then I make this lovely girl mine, all mine." Pete spoke staring at Charles. A secret message in his tone.

His claim on Molly unsettled Charles, but it was Pete's words that annoyed Charles more. Molly was no girl. He'd known her as a girl, briefly at the beginning, but quickly she'd had grown, and now all Charles could see was that she'd continued to grow into a beautiful strong woman standing before them.

Molly and Pete gazed at each other and suddenly Charles felt as though he was interrupting. He knew his time with her was now over.

"Look. I'd best find Sam. It was good to see you again Molly." He offered as he turned to leave. "Good luck with the wedding."

"Oh yes. Thank you, and it was good to see you too Bossman." She called after him, but paying him little attention anymore. All her attention now focused on Pete who held onto her tightly.

He stayed at the fete a bit longer, did his duty for Sam's sake, but planned to leave as soon as he could. Unsettled, that was how he felt in seeing her again, almost as though he'd found her and then lost her with the knowledge she was now someone else's.

Yet despite his promises to himself to leave he tortured himself for a bit longer watching them both.

Watching how the young man held her, brush her hair off her shoulders, dipped his head to kiss her. He saw how she gazed into his eyes, and how she had once looked at him like that, but never with the intensity he saw her so it today.

He could see that Molly had found someone to love, and from what he remembered from his happy times with her, she had a pure heart and it showed that she loved him with all hers.

And so Charles walked away.

Away from the woman who could have been someone more to him, but wasn't.

Who could have been his future, but now would never be.

Away from the soon to be married Molly Dawes.


	2. Chapter 2

**All Change**

**Chapter 2**

His life just went on.

As it had done once before, when he'd been without her, but this time it was different, he had more memories of her to draw on, to dream his nights away. Surprisingly he found that he thought of her even more. Drawing on the memories of a more mature, a more up to date image of Molly, of the woman she had become. He didn't know if it helped, having new memories of her, he just knew he needed them and treasured them. They were what kept him happy. Despite it all. 

As the weeks rolled on, as her wedding day approached he wondered, what if, but he did nothing, it was all too late for them. She had found someone else. He guessed their time had just sadly passed, and then suddenly it really was too late, he heard she had gone through with it. Molly had gotten married.

There had been no big dramas, no last minute changes of heart, no jilting at the altar. Her love story with Pete just continued, the way it had been planned. The irony of it not lost on him as Sam was a guest at her wedding. His son helping Molly to celebrate her special day. His son, Sam, watching Molly marry someone else, where as if Lady Luck had been kinder to them both it might have been his very own father who had stood next to this amazing woman at the altar.

He listened with a sad heart, but an outwardly practiced indifferent one, as Sam had explained that the wedding, the whole day was 'great', Molly had looked 'amazing' and Pete, in everyone's opinion, was a 'truly nice guy'. He smiled at his son's words, but silently added his own thoughts that indeed Pete was also a very very lucky guy. 

And just like before, because he couldn't, Charles did not let his life stop. He continued in the old routines as before, as he had always done for the past many years. Leading his life first for Sam, and now finally for himself. 

It was the same routine every Friday night. The buyers, the receptionist, the reps from the banking company Charles worked in always finished early and went out for post work drinks. As always though, which was his routine, every week, Charles turned down their kind offers to join them. In the early days it had always been the female colleagues and co-workers who had attempted to get him to accept their offers, hoping he'd one day succumb. Dreaming that they would be the woman that would catch this handsome man's eye. But none of them ever did, nor would they. Their offers tempting, but never enough. He always had somewhere else to go. Somewhere better.

Since leaving the Army he had been successful, very successful. More than he had dared to have hoped in those dark days after his release. He found his talents extended to banking, introduced into it by a friend of a friend, and it had worked well for him. His work impressed and these days he found himself within the company in a fairly senior role, a demanding role and lucrative one too, but also a role Charles found soul destroying. It was not his passion, never would be, and was not what he had envisaged his career to be. It was a means to an end in the beginning, and he had suffered its security for the sake of Sam for the past fifteen years, becoming reluctantly very successful at it. It was all about planning and negating risk, something his military training had taught him well.

He would always however grateful for his job in banking. It had given him something the Army hadn't... stability and the ability to be there for Sam. Unlike the Army it hadn't dragged him away from bringing up his son. There was no threat to his role as Sam's parent while he was playing at being a banker.

Despite the advantages though his job gave him, the Army was still in Charles James' blood and he found very early on after his compassionate discharge that he could not give it up completely. It had been once, all he had ever wanted, and that desire never left him, and so he joined the Army Reservists. This role found him again, at the very least two times a week, as once more being a Captain in the British Army Reserve. A role he was made for. He was back to being Captain James, nothing more, nothing less and it suited him just fine. Not in it for the glory of accolades, in it for the joy of being a soldier once again. Through this role, his life's passion was still therefore able to be realised. It was what had kept him sane all these years. 

He was so very proud of his role as a reservist. Proud once again to wear the uniform. Over the years he had helped numerous young boys and girls achieve their goals, right them when they were on the wrong paths, show them new ways and helped numerous others enlist as soldiers in the regulars. It was a role he took pride in and was very much needed in his life, making life as a city worker, full time dad, and carer at times for his ex-wife, just about tolerable. 

"Off to play soldiers?" His son teased him.

Charles was driving to the reservist base whilst having his usual Friday night telephone conversation with his son as he drove. This was their much adhered to routine since Sam had moved out. 

He laughed at his son's traditional comment. Sam had never really taken to the Army life and Charles had never pushed him. Sam was more a sensitive being, and academic to boot just like his mother. Plus Charles suspected that in his formative years Sam had had to listen to his Mother's hate of the job Charles had then done, and so his mind was in all likelihood turned away from entering such a career pathway. 

"That I am. Big night tonight." Charles added as he speed down the motorway. Thinking about the night ahead. "We're taking on new recruits. Starting the interviewing and testing tonight." 

"Oh stern face Captain James about to make an appearance then is he? Shout at them from the start, let them know whose boss?" Sam laughed.

He'd heard, over the years, some tales from the few old colleagues Charles had kept in contact with about his father's methods. 

"I'll be fair and appropriate." Charles defensively answered back to his son, but in reality he knew his reputation went way before him. His reputation as being a stern disciplined soldier meant everything to him, and he did nothing to alter that. It had been the same all those years ago when he was active, and as he'd clung on to the past, he therefore did nothing to dispel it, and reinforced it as often as possible. 

"So..." Sam continued. "...just reminding you that we're meeting at Mum's tomorrow. About 1?" Sam cut Charles' musings short. 

"Don't worry I haven't forgotten. Know what it's like if we do?" He replied. 

They both laughed. Then Charles continued. 

"Have you spoken to her lately? She sounded good when I last did." 

"Yeah." Sam said. "Last weekend. You're right though she's doing ok. Managed to go shopping the other day all by herself without messing it up. Says she taken up a new hobby too." 

"That's good, about the shopping...I think. Not too sure about the hobby. Sure she'll fill us in." Charles smiled.

He was pleased whenever they could talk positively about Rebecca. There had been many times over the years where they hadn't, where the good times she now more than often than not had, were once just dreams. 

"So see you tomorrow?" Sam not too skilfully winding up the call. He had plans for his evening, plans that didn't involve shouting at recruits on a cold parade ground. Plans that hopefully involved a certain young lady. "Oh and if you could bring my last few boxes from the garage that would be great too." 

Then he was gone. Leaving the car very silent and empty. Just how, like the family home felt, now that Sam had moved into his new digs. The commute to the school too long for him to have even considered moving back in with Charles. Plus the desperate need Sam now had to continue his independence. Charles though lonely at times knew that was how it was meant to be. He accepted his changing situation. 

Charles had found it strange since Sam left though. It was a whole new ball bag way of thinking. Not having to think about Sam first and foremost. Not having to plan his life around meal times, pick ups from after school clubs, sporting events, and parent's evenings. Now it was just him. The complete opposite to how his life had once been. 

For sixteen years he'd been Sam's soul parent. Rebecca too frail to be depended on, but still at Charles' insistence, and also with a huge degree of his patience, she had remained very much part of Sam's life. Very much part of his life too. 

That day, the day he received the call he remembered his only concerns up to that point was for the safety of his men, and their purpose out there in Afghanistan. Totally unaware of the dangers that were happening in his life, to his own family.

So when that call came he had no doubt, and his priories changed and he left, returned home, and made a heart-breaking, but very much, the correct choice. 

Everyone who knew them knew that Rebecca had always struggled with her mental health. He'd know that from their university days and dating her in their last year. Exams stress, submission dates, presentations, all causing her high levels of anxiety, but she always seemed to recover, and always as one of the brightest, came out on top. 

They married, soon after university. Both too young and both too blinded by their own stubbornness. Both sets of respective parents totally against the idea, knowing they weren't right for each other. If the truth be known the night before the wedding both of them too, with more than just cold feet, realised they were most definitely not suited for each other. However there was no going back. Rebecca was pregnant and Charles wanted to do the right thing, and so they married. Both felt hesitant in those first months together, both tried, but both knew deep down it had been the sex that had brought them together, not love, and once the initial attraction wore off, once an impending arrival interrupted things, they had very little else. 

Her pregnancy was a difficult one. She suffered from nausea almost constantly, and the nerves and worry she experienced on a daily basis only fuelled the symptoms. She started to hate being pregnant for more than just the sickness and tiredness it brought. Married life was not as she had expected it to be.

Disillusioned, anxious and worn out she saw every day as a challenge. Then the greatest challenge of all came upon her and Charles, and they both failed to deal with it properly. His decision to follow his life's dream, one she had always known about, one he had always planned on doing, to join the British Army, was the first huge nail in the coffin of their marriage. She was unable to accept any realism about his career choice. Saw no positives, only negatives, only fatalities to everything she had. They argued a lot about it. Where she saw him as selfish, and something else for her to worry about, Charles could only see it as an opportunity, as the life he had planned on having. Years later though he ashamedly admitted that not once had he considered how her plans had been altered by accidental motherhood. He had just expected her to go along with it all.

Her parents, Pat and John, her emotional crutch at times like these tried to support her, reason with her. Knowing her life style would be at least a good one having both themselves been military, but she saw none of it. Her emotions were so highly strung, and so during his officer training it saw Charles eaten with guilt, spending large chucks of his time rushing between the training college and to her side when she became overcome or too anxious about it all. Her parents tried so hard to lessen his load, but they were both elderly, far elderly than his own, and they struggled to see their daughter so affected mentally by the normal things in life. It was a hard time in his life, but harder times were to come. 

When Sam was eventually born, thankfully he was present and it was, he was told and easy birth, but Rebecca struggled. His parents, Cath and Mark supported them amazingly. Doting on their first grandchild, willing to help where they could, and when Charles went on his first tour some nine months later Rebecca moved in with them. 

All seemed to go well. She adapted to motherhood far better than anyone predicted and Sam was a wonderful baby. His tour was short and he came home to find Rebecca a happy image of her former self. They got on, moved back into their own home and started to attempt a life as a family, until the day he started to notice little changes in Rebecca's behaviours. Going out for walks last thing at night, taking longer than expected at the shops. Nothing definite, but nothing quite right. 

He noticed she had started to look after herself more. A change had happened while he'd been on tour. She, for want of a better word, groomed herself more than she had done for years. He was a man, not totally oblivious, and was basically proud to have this pretty woman on his arm. It flattered him. At Army functions she was loud, fun, daring and beautiful. Others commented on them as the perfect couple, and Charles felt there were good days ahead. Not perfect, but there was potential. 

It was about when Sam was two that he started to hear the rumours. His early promotion had ruffled some feathers, but he had not expected such nasty gossip about him and his wife to occur. He ignored them at first, but then quickly realised he couldn't do that forever. He had been hiding from the truth, but the day his mother sadly broached the subject to him, he could hide no more. Cath, too, having suspected all along, had turned a blind eye for the sake of her grandchild, until one day had shocking proof, could deny it no more and turned to her son. Cath had no choice but to tell Charles that Rebecca was cheating on him. 

He confronted Rebecca. Her infidelity was admitted to him instantly, with little emotion, and it surprised Charles that it hadn't hurt him. He had expected, and had even hoped, that it would. He was realistic though, they hadn't been intimate for a long time, batting along together as friends and parents mainly, not as lovers, but he still had not suspected her infidelity. The rumours were many and all seemed true, and if anything he quickly realised they had underestimated her actions. 

Poor Rebecca her low self-esteem, her low resistance to everyday life had sought instant gratification and adoration from others. Some whom she fell deeply in love with and depended on them entirely, some who were merely transient inconsequential men in her life. But all who she liaised with, whether she knew it or not, were known to Charles in some form or another in his role as an officer in the British Army. 

Whereas he didn't feel hurt or pained by her actions, he did feel humiliation. The humiliation was huge and Charles opted out as best he could. He went on tour again. Promises from Rebecca to attend therapy, counselling for her addition, her compunction for self-gratification, self-worth through sex with others. Offers that on his return they'd talk, and maybe even try again. 

He eventually returned and quickly saw nothing had changed. He forgave her though, because he simply didn't love her in that way anymore to hate her for what she had done. He had learnt to understand that she needed that constant reassurance in her life, and like an addict was looking for it where ever she could. Hunting it out. He knew he'd never be able to give it to her, nor did he want to be. Simply they were not what either of them wanted.

Quietly, calmly he told her. Explained that the situation, their marriage, for his own sanity, that of Sam's and his career things just couldn't continue. So he left, without any true emotion on any side simply walked away. Took another tour to occupy his thoughts. They started divorce proceedings, and the fact they kept it civil for Sam's sake, and the lack of any upset, any arguments, just showed all how wrong they had been for each other in the first place. There was never any deep love there, friendship maybe, but no true love. 

Once Charles had left, as expected, Rebecca struggled through continued to have numerous love affairs and showed herself in a poor light to those who knew her. Sam more than once becoming second in her thoughts and actions, and so by the time Charles' forth tour came Charles was very concerned and again his parents came to the rescue. 

Perhaps naively, looking back it had all felt so do-able to Charles. The divorce was almost through. Sam part cared for by his parents for now, so he willingly accepted his six month tour to Afghanistan. As he packed he couldn't have known that it would be the final tour he'd ever go on, for it was that tour that he met Molly, and it was that tour he received the call that changed everything. 

It, as it often is in such cases, a chain of events that led up to the crisis. Unbeknown to him his parents had fallen ill. Overcome by the winter bugs, and her parents were out of the country, and so Rebecca, who had been doing well lately, was in sole charge of Sam. All seemed well, she appeared to cope, but a long term love affair that she had invested heavily in suddenly ended against her wishes and it destroyed Rebecca instantly. That, coupled with the decree absolute coming through, she mentally crumbled, feeing so unloved. Mentally not resistant enough to cope, she finally broke in the worst way. Unable even to look after herself, Sam became a victim, and the authorities were called and Sam was taken into care. 

Within hours Charles was contacted and within days Sam was back at his father's side, and would remain so for the next fifteen years. Charles had no choice. Sam was his son to care for. Rebecca finally getting the intense help she had been crying out for over the years, was by judgement of the court, not able to look after Sam. Charles was it, Sam's parent from now on, and so he left the Army on compassionate grounds and turned his focus on being there for Sam. 

He had no choice but still it hurt. To leave the life, a life he loved, and people he'd started to deeply care for, but he loved his son more. He had to be there to help his son struggle though the emotional mind field that was Rebecca's mental health. He had to care for his son and well as protect him from the realities of the situation at the same time. All the while still allowing him to have contact, a relationship with his mummy. She was after all someone he loved, no matter what, as most 6 year olds rightly should do.

Charles made the most of it though. He invested his life into everything that was Sam, and loved it. Sharing special moments that he otherwise might have missed if he'd remained in the Army. Eventually over time, though not completely, Rebecca recovered, just enough. Though she didn't recover enough to ever look after Sam again, and some days she functioned better than others, but her boys learnt to adapt to this, and over the years she had good times and bad times with them in her life. Both Charles and Sam took it the only way they could, one day at a time. Remaining an odd sort of family, separated, but still a semi family unit thanks to Charles' kind heart and determination not to give up on Sam's mother. He was mindful that he need to do the right thing for them all. 

And that's where they were today. Having regular meet ups with Rebecca at her home. Sometimes they were good days, others they all struggled, but no matter what Charles never regretted his choice. To be there for Sam and when he saw that he had continued to love and care for his mother despite some upsetting times he knew he had done the right thing. 

He had though done the right thing for Sam. The kind thing for Rebecca, but for himself he had sacrificed a lot. Over the years there had just been him and Sam. Mixed in with thoughts of Molly, the last woman he had let into his heart. He hadn't dated over all those years, despite numerous offers. Too frightened to be in a hurtful situation again, to concerned how anyone could fit in with the semi functional dysfunctional family he already had, and unsure how anyone could ever measure up to the memories he'd held of Molly. 

His memories of his past had kept him occupied during the drive. They didn't make him sad anymore, he now a days just accepted them for what they were...memories. Soon therefore he found himself arriving at the reservist base. Pulling into the car park he was met by his trusted colleague, Matt. His Major. 

"Evening Charles. You ready for this?" He teased. 

"As bad as that?" Charles asked walking and reading the list of the candidates Matt had just handed him. The names though meant nothing to him. 

"Not really. You just know what some of these new recruits are like. Green and naive... and bloody hard work." 

"Well you give them your famous Major chat and then I'll do my PT bit. That should sort the shit from the clay." Charles laughed. 

Major Matt Gedding stood in front of the potential reservist recruits out in the courtyard. All decked out in varying types of sports kit, huddled up against the cold October wind. He'd given his 'do what you can, be the best, don't let us down' speech, now they were waiting for Charles to beast them around the PT circuits. Past experience showed some fell at the first hurdle but Charles was good at this, Matt knew that. He never let anyone just give up, he always pushed them on. Got their full potential realised. 

As Charles walked out he saw nothing but hoddies and track suits... no faces. Barking out his commands they striped and headed to their designated stations. It was only then that he saw her. Stripped down to running shorts and a sports top, he knew her form before he saw her face. 

Molly.

Smack bang middle of his reservists, applying herself to join them. 

Molly.

Once again, the girl he couldn't forget, showing up unexpectedly into his life.

It took a few moments, but she felt his eyes on her and she caught him staring. She had been so happy when she had seen him stride out moments earlier. No matter what, they always would have those few special months in Afghan. No matter what there would always be something between them.

"Alright Bossman?" She cheekily asked as she jogged over to him.

He just grinned back, a big happy grin, making his face youthful once again.

"Molly Dawes. As I live and breathe." He answered back to her. "And it's 'Sir' by the way." Pointing to his uniform and crown insignia. He raised his eyebrows at her, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Arms folded safely under his pits. Full of nervous energy in seeing her again.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry Sir." She apologised. "As you can see I'm still shit at first impressions."

He dipped his head and cautioned her.

"Dawes!"

"Oh sorry Charles. I mean Sir. Shit." She looked panicked. "Anyway begging your pardon and all that but it's not Dawes anymore Sir."

He said nothing, just watched her raising her left hand to flash her wedding ring. "It's Greene."

"Oh yes. Sorry." He answered back. Her change of name, the rings on her finger proved she belonged to someone else. "Right then Greene. Double away. Let's get this test going."

He put the recruits through their paces for the next half an hour. In all a good bunch all rising to the challenges. Some were younger, and some like Molly were mid thirties or older, but all wanting to give something back to their country.

The first stages of their selection had gone well, no drop outs as yet. Though there were a few more hurdles and exercises for them to achieve over the coming months but Matt and Charles felt confidently happy with the group.

He saw no more if her. Tried not to show any favouritism at this stage, and actively avoided her. Though was desperate to see her again talk to her, reconnect with her, but he didn't.

As he walked to his car though suddenly she was there by his side. Changed, showered. The fresh smell of her, despite being wrapped up filled his senses.

"You haven't changed Bossman." She started as soon as she caught up with him. "Still a bastard when it comes to PT."

Charles laughed. "Good to see you can still keep up Dawes... I mean Greene." He offered back.

"Gonna take a while ain't it?" She laughed "My name change. It did me."

"Yes. And by the way. No rings allowed once in uniform. You know that." He saw her flinch at his harshness. He tried for a lighter tone. "Anyway congratulations. How is it all going?" He kicked himself at the bluntness of his question.

She looked at him slightly oddly, but recovered.

"Good. Thanks. Nearly three months now as Mrs Greene." She proudly said. "Who'd have thought? Loving it though." She offered.

"Good. That's good." He nodded. "So what's brought all this on, joining up again? Thought newlyweds just wanted to be with each other."

She laughed.

"You're having a giraffe there aren't you mate. Me...I'd love that but think I'd drive Pete crazy. He thought it would be good for me to find something to do."

Charles just nodded as though he understood. If she was his he'd stay in with her every single chance he could. She continued.

"He's studying for his Masters. Tied up most nights, reading, and researching a lot. I was getting under his feet I reckon, so he encouraged me to do this. Knew how much I loved it when I was in."

"And you were bloody good at it too Molly." Charles said earnestly.

"Thanks. Though I don't know about that, but he thought I should go for it." Then she added with total honesty. "Besides he doesn't want me to sit around and get fat." She laughed at that but Charles saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. "You know now I'm married and that... he doesn't want me to let myself go."

Charles was appalled at what he was hearing. Unsure why Molly would ever allow anyone to say something like that to her. How a man in this day and age could get away saying something like that to the woman he loved! He was unsure what to say.

She saw his hesitation.

"He doesn't really mean it." She offered in his defence. "Beside. It will do me good, and now I know I'll be working with you again, it will be fab."

She smiled at him, a smile he would take and hold onto until he saw her again. He'd always enjoyed his two nights a week escapism, but suddenly he was going to enjoy it a lot more.

"You've a few more test to go you know Dawes... Greene?" He smiled apologetically at the name slip again. "You might not make it."

She stopped in front of him. Still tiny, still delicate, but the strongest woman he'd ever known.

"Come on now Bossman. You know I'm going to make the cut. I'm the nuts me remember?"

He laughed shyly, dipping his head to look at his boots, but he said nothing.

"You thought I was once." She quietly said.

His head shot up, his mouth making the perfect O, words that he was unsure of about to slip out... but then he stopped.

"Molly. Come on. I'm freezing here." Pete shouted from across the car park.

He sat in the car while Molly jogged over to him. Turning briefly to raise a hand and utter a neutral goodbye to Charles.

He watched as Pete stayed in the car. Never once getting out to help with her back pack as she rammed it into the boot. Never once leaving the warmth of the car to open her door or greet her. He just sat there playing on his phone until she got in next to him kissing him on the cheek. Then he drove off.

All Charles could do was watch, and knew for the first time ever he had regrets.


	3. Chapter 3

**All Change**

**Chapter 3**

"She's good isn't she?" Matt nodded his head towards Molly as she assessed a mock casualty in the training centre.

It had been weeks now since Molly had come back into his life, and she presently was showing him and everyone around her just how good she still was as a medic.

"Yeah. The best." Charles added. Enjoying his official role as overseer as it meant he was able to watch Molly without any repercussions. "She always was. Shame she left really. Though I hear she's pretty outstanding in her assessors job too." Charles added.

Today was the last weekend before Christmas, and as though it was cruel it was necessary, it was also the potential recruits weekend in for their final assessments. It all depended, for some of them, on this. Molly however, as once before, had been outstanding, and was definitely going to be offered a role in the reservists. She hadn't lost that edge, that certain something, that had made her brilliant all those years ago.

Watching her now reminded him how lucky he'd been to have her as a replacement medic on his last tour. How she'd helped more than him out there in that dusty land. Thoughts of a young girl that Molly had come close to filling his mind for the first time in a long time, being one example of Molly's good heart.

"And you're sure you don't mind being 'IT' over the holidays?" Matt asked as they walked back to his office, breaking his musings. "It seems a bit unfair you having to do it all."

"No problem. Not up to much. Sam's off to his new girlfriend's. Rebecca has another new man to keep her entertained. So I'll probably just spend Christmas with the folks and head back and catch up on stuff at home."

"Well thanks." Said Matt. "You've saved my bacon. Wife wasn't too happy when I said we were on call over the festivities."

Charles just smiled knowingly. Matt's wife was known to be difficult at times, but nowhere near as difficult as Rebecca, but still needed handling at times. So Charles offered to hold the bleep over all of the Christmas holidays just in case their reservist regiment was called upon. It had happened many times before and each time they offered invaluable support to the other emergency services and the regulars.

"Right." Matt slapped his friend on the back. "Should we go and tell them the good news?"

The potential reservists stood to attention in front of them. Matt delivered the good news. Charles merely stood behind him, arms folded, stern faced. He'd watched though as Molly beamed with happiness on hearing the news that she was in. It was now official. Her smile said it all and he saw how much it meant to her and he was as delighted for her as much as he was for himself. Now he knew for certain every Tuesday and Fridays he'd get to spend time in her company.

"Can't believe I'm in." She spoke just as he was about to get into his car.

Sneaking up on him again. He was glad though she had. He turned and looked at her grinning. She was almost skipping in the spot she was that happy.

Once the news had been given he'd slipped away to talk to Matt. Pretended he had other things to do. He'd been so unsure about approaching her, unsure about interrupting her as she chatted happily with all her other contemporaries. Unsure as he didn't have an excuse to seek her out, unsure if she'd even welcome the interruption. He was still trying to keep as professional as he could be with her, rather than the friendly relationship he wanted with her, so he slipped away with just a cheerful nod to them all.

Anyway here she was. Once again she was the one to seek him out.

"Knew you would." He smiled back at her. "You're good Molly. Really good." Charles replied. "Well done." He stretched his arm out to pat her, but pulled back as he saw her head follow his move. He worried he was overstepping the mark, and his movement and his worry by turning away from her again. Offering her now nothing more than his back.

He remembered the first time he had met her. When she was a casualty replacement for two section on that dull day at Brize. How he thought so very little of her then, judged her unfairly, and oh how she had proved him wrong. Time and time again. They had come along way since that day. His initial bias of her proved to be totally wrong. So much so they had become friends and were on the way to becoming more, before he was called back home. But then there had been the years in between, of not knowing each other, of her finding a husband. Too much had happened, too many years had passed by, that he now felt they were too far away from being easily comfortable with each other.

"Thank you Sir." She answered back at him, moving herself to catch sight of his face. Seeking him out. No matter what insecurities Charles had, Molly at least didn't seem to have any, had never been anything but friendly towards him. He looked at her once more as she gazed at him, both with half grins on their faces, both blissfully unaware of anything apart from each other. They stayed like that for moments, both, maybe for different reasons holding on to the little time they ever got to spend with each other.

He felt himself starting to drown again in her eyes. He had to stop.

"Right got to be going." Charles cleared his throat and went to unlock his car. Harsh and cold. An act he'd had practice with over the years. "Pete picking you up? Or I could give you a lift?"

"No. Thanks." She sadly replied. Missing their connection, then scolding herself for such feelings. "Pete will be here soon." She remembered the here and now. The past had to stay in the past. "Then Christmas can begin. Schools finished, the terms over, so time for us to relax." She joked out.

"Big plans?" He asked, out of politeness, he wished though he didn't care. Waves of jealousy were fluttering around his gut as he thought of Pete spending Christmas with Molly. Spending Christmas with Molly in a way Charles had only dreamed of, while Charles would be almost entirely alone.

"Yeah. First Christmas as Mr and Mrs." She slowly explained. "I've big plans."

"Good." It was all he could offer. He didn't want to know the details, instead he just fixed the best grin he could on his face. There was no more to say, no more that he could safely say. "Have a good one then and I'll see you in the new year."

She was slightly sad that he didn't seem to want to talk. She was so happy about her passing and she had expected he would be too. She thought about how they always used to talk and missed that. He was now different now, more distant from her than ever, and it shocked her when she suddenly realised that she was different, and that's the way it had to be. It couldn't, she guessed, no matter how much she wanted it to be like before.

"You? Any plans?" She asked out of politeness and hoping to keep him talking a bit longer. Not wanting him to be gone just yet. She realised that even in the short time he'd been back in her life she'd very much looked forward to any type of interaction with him.

"Nothing special." He replied. "Sam. Parents. Rebecca. The usual."

"Oh!" Her eyebrows shot up at the mention of Rebecca, she had so many questions.

The Molly of old would have asked, but the new Molly who now was almost like a stranger to him didn't, she didn't pry. Still it surprised her, she hadn't expected Charles still see her, and wondered just how involved he was with his ex wife.

"Well have a good one." Was all she could offered.

He climbed into his car. Not even looking back at her. He didn't want to, knowing he was cold in the face of her kindness. Yet he couldn't help it. It affected him more than he'd expected...leaving her to head back to his lonely life was harder each time he did it. He still cared for her.

"Yes I will. You too. And well done by the way." And then he drove off leaving Molly feeling very deflated and lost.

The call came the day after Boxing day. An old World War Two unexploded bomb, found by some kids messing about had raised the alarm, was the cause. The bomb in itself wasn't a problem but the fact that it was found in some scrub land to the back end of a 300 bedded care home was. The emergency services were called in as appropriate, alongside the regular Army, and the reservist too. All needed to help transport the elderly, and scared residents of the care home to safer accommodation. Logistically hard enough, but added to the fact it was Christmas time and the snow was falling thickly, their mercy mission became a bit harder to deal with.

Charles turned up at the base, having left his parents with apologies, and waited for those reservists to respond to his call out message. Although it was a bad situation for the residents Chalres was pleased to be doing something useful in his down time. He instructed his Corporal to put the call out to all who were available and within the hour he had a surprisingly good selection of soldiers willing to help. He was proud of them, turning out, leaving their own families behind to help others. He'd dismissed Matt's offers of help, telling him to stay at home. The safe option for his marriage. Beside Charles felt this was something he very much would be able to do on his own. Doing a job he loved as well as being in charge.

As the volunteers reservists arrived he soon started to bark out the orders, arrange the transport and divvy up the duties. Pairing the newest reservist with their more experienced ones. He was in his element, the skills he'd been taught all those years ago and practice regularly coming into their own. It was in this role he had a brief respite that he looked up and noticed her slight figure as it came running across the car park. Fully uniformed and Bergen on back.

"Sorry Boss. Bit late but I'm here if you need me." Private Greene greeted him. He was the first person she sort out on her arrival. He noticed her face light up with excitement, almost matching his.

"No problem." He smiled at her. "Good to see you though a bit surprised Green." Charles admitted.

He hadn't expected her to turn up at all. Had briefly imagined her refusing when the call came. Imagining her all emerged in her first family Christmas as someone's wife.

Molly just raised her eyes in surprise, to his statement.

"It's just I thought first Christmas and that you'd have stayed at home." Charles explained to her.

"Nah. Not me." Molly smiled. "Besides Bossman you've lived with me before, even you know I can get a bit too much at times. He was pleased to see the back of me I reckon."

And then she skipped away, leaving him saddened by how little she still thought of herself. Yet despite his sad thoughts his smile increased as he saw Molly greeted by the group, genuinely happy to see her, as she got herself stuck in with the rest of them. Just like he'd know her once before, she was rated by all who worked with her, and they welcomed her addition to the team.

As soon as they turned up at the care home and started the evacuation of the residents she was invaluable. The Molly Dawes of before shone out she spent time with the residents reassuring, calming them, happy, and patient with their confusion. She was a true credit and impressed more than him.

The bus journey saw her raise their morals. Stirring up singing contests of Christmas carols and seasonal banter. As he sat in the front seat of the coach he watched her from the central mirror working the crowd of the bewildered residence into a happier calmer mood.

She was equally as good settling the old timers into their sparse and very unfamiliar home for the night. A large, very echoey church hall. The coldness and strangeness of it all unsettling for the elderly patients, who had been disturbed from their comfortable beds in the late hours of the night. Molly saw this and with care and compassion, which rubbed off on the others, tried to calm them and reassure them as best she could. They care staff thanked her and the others repeatedly sort her help.

It was much later, the end of a very long busy night that he saw her. Their paths once they had arrived in the church hall hadn't crossed too much, but now as the chaos settled and sleep called, he sort her out. Most of the other helpers had bunkered down somewhere at the back of the hall in an attempt to get some shut eye, and privacy, while they could. Until they were needed again with the unpredictable nature of the situation. Molly however he noticed, though not surprised, stayed a bit closer to the residents , just in case.

"Tea, splash of milk and two sugars. Right?" He said as he slid down the wall and sat close to her. Now the adrenaline was leaving his body, he too was feeling weary.

She gratefully accept the tea with a very weakly smile.

"You remembered Bossman."

He merely nodded, but took in her weak smile. He'd brought blankets and dropped one over her legs.

"You ok?" He asked as he too stretched his legs out in front of him, covered himself too, and took a sip of his hot drink. The coldness of the hall and the floor they were sitting on chilling him now he'd stopped moving. The blankets offering little comfort.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" She quizzed him. Shifting the blanket do it was more efficient in its task.

"Just asking." He answered. Then using his cup of coffee as a pointer said. "You did good out there tonight Molly. Really good."

"Thanks." She sighed.

They stayed quiet for a while listening to the gently soothing that was happening in the hall as the care staff spoke and attended to the residents.

"Poor buggers. Some don't even know who they are never mind where they are. It must be awful for them."

"Yeah. Unfair, but at least they're safe. We wouldn't have to have moved them if the authorities hadn't thought the bomb was a serious risk." He replied looking at her serious face, half illuminated by the moon as it shone through the darkened hall window.

"I know. I know. It's just got me thinking." She went on. "If I get like that. Old and stuff. Who's gonna care for me?"

He wanted to say he would. That he'd always care, always had. He'd always help her, but he couldn't, he wouldn't. There were lines, even for his own hearts sake, he was not willing to cross.

"Surely Pete?" He responded, surprised that she hadn't even considered her own husband.

"Yes." She said it slowly as though it was a new idea and she was having to think about it, as though she'd never considered it before. "I'm a bit older than him you see." See explained. "So I'll be like this lot well before him. Don't think he's even considered that."

"Oh." Charles raised his eyebrows. "How much older?" Then thinking it was cheeky added. "That is if you want to say."

"Nah. That's ok. Six years nearly. Not a big deal just yet, but maybe one day." And then she fell silent, lost in her own thoughts and looked sad with them.

"Well I'm older than you. So I guess I'll go gaga before you." He tried to make her smile, and he did. "Who'll look after me?"

She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped onto them with her arms. Tucking the blanket closer to her. She looked pensive at him sideways, as her head rested on her knees in her protective stance.

"Sam? Rebecca?" She questioned back. Surprised he too had to ask.

He dipped his head and played with his curls on the back of his head. The sight of that action brought back all types of memories to her.

"Maybe." He so very quietly said. "But not Rebecca, she never could."

They sat in a semi uncomfortable silence for a while. Molly mulling over her expectations from a man she had married. Charles finally appreciating just how alone his life has now become.

Charles broke their thoughts saying.

"Tell you what Molly. If you agree to look after me. I'll look after you."

She giggled, a quiet but still a happy sound, to reach his tired ears. A smile came back to her face.

"You're on Sir."

She suddenly felt so happy and so close to him. Just like before, all those years ago.

"That's better." He smiled at her. "God I'm tired. But I won't sleep. Never did."

"Me and the lads reckoned as much. You know out there." She clarified.

He sighed.

"Didn't sleep much I guess. Too much going on up here." He tapped his head. "Only managed a few hours each night on tour."

She bumped her shoulder into his.

"Tell us about it. Just cause you couldn't bloody sleep, didn't mean we all had to be up with a sparrows fart." She laughed. "You and your bloody early morning PTs."

He started to laugh and check his volume in consideration of those who were sleeping. Now chuckling at her comments, his body shaking, her close proximity moving her body too.

"We was knackered some days." She continued teasing. "They used to beg me to stop treating your blisters, so we'd have a day off from running around in the bloody sand."

He looked as her still highly amused.

"Course I'd never have done that. Against the code and all that." She offered. "Beside I was trying to impress you." She offered out shyly.

He slowly stopped being amused as the words she spoke and the memories of his time under her care came flooding back to him.

"You did. Thank you. Best medic ever to deal with my blisters." He said with genuine thanks.

"I know." She smiled back at him, both very comfortable in their past world together on that cold floor. " I told you I was the nuts. Didn't I?"

They beamed at each other and despite the darkness of the hour, both knew that each other's faces were wrapped in happiness.

"That you did Dawes." He gently offered back.

Then she did something unexpected. She acted in purely on the impulse of being with him again, of gaining that comfortable friendship between them. Something that surprised him as much as it surprised her, but she didn't stop herself, nor did he. She stretched out her legs, shuffled herself around and then simply leaned over and rested her head into his shoulders. No permission sort, merely for all intents and purposes expecting to use him as a pillow to fall asleep on.

He didn't move. He didn't protest. He willing accepted her dozing form, her closeness. He sat still with her head resting on him for an hour or so. Not daring to sleep himself, not wanting to miss a moment of this. The rise and fall of her body moulded to his, the small sleeping sounds she made, were experiences he'd never get again, and he was not going to waste them on sleep.

Yet as with all things, and due to the uncomfortableness of their situation she started to stir. All to soon, all too soon as the winter dawn approached the hall began to wake and their perfect moment, only truly appreciated by one of them, was over.

"Molly." He called softly shaking her. "I've got to get up."

She slowly opened her eyes and her smile was one of pure heaven. Her eyes locked onto his, her first waking view. She didn't move out of shock from him or her position on him, more than comfortable where she was, despite the conditions. Instead she moved her head slightly and looked at him with sleepy eyes, and a cheeky grin.

"Charles." She purred out. Stretching her arms. God he could only dream of her saying those words in a more convivial situations. "Mmmm. That was a good sleep."

He laughed.

"Only you Dawes." As she reluctantly pulled her head off his shoulder and tested the stiffness of her neck.

"What?" She looked at him and again didn't correct him about using the wrong name. It was the second time that night he'd used it.

"Only you." He explained. "Could find the positive out of the crap." And when she continued to look confused he went on further. "Roof on an Afghan shitter, the perfect star gazing spot, a cold dusty hall floor the perfect sleeping zone." He finished with a big smile.

"Yeah. When you put it like that." Then she unfolded her legs and stretched them and herself out. Moving slightly away from him but he still felt her muscles ripple as she woke them up. He was very grateful at that time that he was no longer a young teenage buck and he at least had some control over his body, but it was hard. The sight of her still sleep fuddled and moving in such a languorous state next to him was a test in itself, but he held his emotions together.

"Never thought that you knew about that." She yawned out. "My special place on top of the shitter."

He smiled.

"I knew everything Dawes, at all times. It was my job." Then bravely added. "I never really let you out of my sight."

Soon he was helping her stand, both complaining of stiffness and aches.

"Must be getting old." She teased. "Might be needing you to look after me sooner."

"Christ Molly if you're old I'm bloody accident." He answered as he dusted off her arms and back from the floor muck. Only stopping himself in time from patting her bum down too. She noticed his proximity and how he halted, and instantly they both reddened at the situation.

He turned on his heels to go, to flee from the awkwardness of it, but she didn't let him go easily, she still enjoyed a tease. She called out after him.

"Nah. You're not that ancient Sir, but nearly! Few grey hairs I've noticed."

He turned back and grinned cheekily at her, but with a warning tone barked out.

"Dawes."

And with that he turned and became the stern Captain again, focusing on his job. Successfully swallowing down the feelings that had been so close to his stone hardened surface.

The Christmas break after that night seemed too long, for once, for Charles. His mother commenting at New Year how restless he was. He missed Molly as they didn't have contact for several weeks after that. Charles fulfilling his pre arranged plans, as straight after New Year went on his annual ski trip with some old uni friends. While Molly missed a few weeks at the base due to the seasonal bugs going around. So it wasn't until the last week in January that they finally saw each other again.

"Happy New Year Greene." He offered as soon as he saw her. Knowing it was weeks past, but needed a line to get passed any awkwardness they may have felt.

She stopped dead.

"You didn't call me Dawes." She said, hurt.

"No." He laughed. "New Years resolution to call you by your right name." He explained. Confused at why she looked so sad.

"Oh I kind of liked it." She quietly replied and walked off. Her shoulders a little bit lower than usual.

In fact that wasn't the only New Years resolution he had made. Over the holiday he realised he was lonely, his talk with Molly and the realisation everyone had moved on but him. His life had been on hold, for too long, for Sam. Now Sam no longer need him as before and he was finding he had little to fill his time with.

He hadn't invested heavily in a social life that didn't revolve around his son, and now he was gone there was a hole in Charles' life. He always hope that there'd be another 'Molly type' girl out there for him, but the truth was he had just never looked. So he was alone. Sam was settled, Rebecca was settled for now at least. Hell even Molly was settled. So now with the new year he felt it was his turn. He was going to try.

His uni friends, loyal, confident, who had been with him and Rebecca through thick and thin, thought it was a wonderful idea. A well overdue idea and it didn't take them long to start suggesting possible ladies for him to ask out. Most he rejected, knowing too much about their histories and traumas, but one stood out.

Gemma, the sister-in law of his best mate. His old college buddy. He'd met her briefly over the years, but had gotten to know her on the ski holiday more. He liked her instantly, which was a rare occurrence. She was bright, funny and kind, and what's more she didn't look after Charles like he was a prize to be caught. He knew he still had reasonable looks, and because of his job in banking he was very reasonably well off. So he was the perfect target for some less scrupulous ladies, but Gemma seemed different.

Yet he hesitated. He knew why. He still had feelings for Molly. Molly who was now married and who never looked at him, he thought, in more than a friendly way. He had to move on, even for his own sanity, but still he waited.

The timing was awful. Their first residential weekend away with the new recruits and it fell on Valentine's weekend. As Matt and Charles broke the news there were a lot of unhappy faces, but not Molly's she just looked excited. She even admitted her excitement to him and Matt later on. Stating she couldn't wait to get out on duty again playing soldiers.

It was in fact a four day exercise. Living in quite basic conditions, cold and muddy, working alongside the Regulars, but for those who loved that type of life it was so much fun. Charles and Molly were both in their elements. The exercise was organised and beneficial both sides learnt a lot from the other. The days were hard, and each night all the soldiers fell onto their cots exhausted.

It surprised him therefore to find her on the final day of the exercise up well before the rest of the camp. He was usually the first one up, but here she was sitting alone in the canteen, nursing one of her famous cups of tea. She looked troubled and in her own world.

"Morning Greene" He greeted her. Trying to be cheerful, even though he knew she wasn't.

She looked up at him with a crooked smile. She knew now, having heard it for the past three days solid, that she hated him calling her that. All her life she'd wanted to be someone else and now she was she resented that she was no longer Dawsey to him any more. She felt hurt as though they had lost something special between them. Still she forced the smile.

"Penny for them?" He asked as he sat down next to her on the bench blowing the steam and aroma of his coffee around them.

"You'd need more than a penny mate." She joked, but there still was no happiness to her voice.

"Oh that bad?"He fell silent. "I'm a good listener though." He offered.

She studied him for a while then asked.

"How did you know? Sam and that. How did you know you was ready?"

He balked at the question, but seeing the pleading in her eyes he answered her.

"I didn't. Sam... well I love him... and wouldn't change it for the world... but he wasn't exactly planned."

"Oh." She said. "You never told me about him. You know back then."

"No. It never seemed to be the right time I guess."

She merely nodded. Accepting what he'd just said.

"I want kids." She blurted out. "Pete doesn't."

"Oh." And it was his turn to merely nod.

"Well he does. Just not now. He wants to wait six or seven years. Says he's too young. Too busy."

Again Charles stayed quiet. His heart wanted him to scream at her that he would give her anything she wanted, but he didn't.

"The thing is if we wait that long I'll be 44, 45 by the time baby comes. Too old."

She giggled.

"Sorry." Knowing that was close to his age. "Well it is for a woman. You know what I mean? It's too late."

"Yeah. Look Molly. Maybe you should be talking to Pete about this." Charles felt uncomfortable in her confidence.

"I have. Well tried to. Thing is we had a bit of a barney before I came here. In fact we've had quite a few."

She sighed and slugged down the last of her tea.

"He thinks I've turned boring. Thinks I'm sucking the life out of him life."

"Molly. I'm sorry." He said and gently as he could he reached out and held

onto her hand.

She stared at it for a moment, grasping it in hers.

"Thing is Charles. He's a bit of a shit at the moment. Hardly has time for me."

"Why? What's happened?" He delicately asked. His thumb unconsciously rubbing her wrist pulse point as he held her tiny hand in his.

"Nothing he always was." She stated simply. "A shit that is." She rolled her eyes. "I settled didn't I? Knew what he was like all along. Thought I could change his mind and stuff."

"I don't understand?" He shook his head to reinforce his confusion.

"You see Charles. I kissed a lot of from before I met him." She added.

"And Pete was your Prince?" Charles was unsure he wanted her answer.

"God no." She snorted. " Just, I guess, less frog like than the rest of them." She replied.

"Why did you marry him then?" He asked,

She stared at him directly.

"Cause he asked."

She snorted at how stupid this sounded, then pushed herself away from the table and his hand and abruptly left.

He offered no words of comfort, he felt useless. His hand devoid of the precious thing it had once held moments ago. Then on impulse his long legs too pushed away from the table and caught up with her before she left the room. He grabbed a shoulder and spun her round. Her eyes wide and imploring. He pulled her in for a hug, a tight, long overdue hug. He felt her melt into him and sob. It felt so good to be finally holding her.

He'd never known this side of Molly and he knew he loved her, right at that moment. No matter what the consequences he loved her, but knew too he had to let her go. Her marriage was young, having the teething troubles all newly weds have. They could be fixed, and she didn't need him as an extra complication to it all.

"Sorry." Her words hitched as she spoke. "I've fuck it all up ain't I?" She still though didn't look at him, still burrowed her face into his chest. Enjoying his comfort. Her arms found their way around to his waist.

He kept on with the hug, feeling her arms fitting perfectly around his waist. They almost swayed together in the bliss they felt to be finally so close, to have achieved something they both had wanted all those years ago. Neither wanting to let go. All consequences of her actions leaving Molly's head as she just held him. The man who she had always loved.

The canteen door burst open as the others made their way in. Oblivious to the scene they had just destroyed. Molly wiped her eyes and tidied her hair, her head hung low. It felt too sad that it was not over.

She nodded, and he moved off. She realised that his words weren't a question he had wanted an answer to. They were a statement of fact. An order almost from him. That she would be ok, she just didn't know when or how.

"You're going to be ok." He whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**All Change**

**Chapter 4**

He threw his car keys down out of sheer frustration. Kicking off his shoes, unknotting his tie and striding to the back of his empty house. The last four weeks had been hell. A disturbance to his life that he thought he'd left behind. It had made him angry.

Once he'd been a man with a purpose, he now felt lost. Once he'd been able to find a calmness, he now felt angry. Once he'd felt needed, he now felt more alone than ever. He mulled over the busy weeks gone by, not usually feeling things so intensely, but he knew what had unsettled him, though he tried hard not to dwell.

Events, as they always did with Charles had just taken over. Interrupted him again, and shifted his life and direction. He told himself it wasn't just because he had an ache in his heart ever since he'd held her so tightly, so close to him. He admitted it wasn't just because she had felt so right in his arms, a feeling he'd longed for, and though brief, he sincerely missed it. It wasn't any of those things he kidded himself in to believing, it was just because. It had nothing to do with Molly, nothing at all, it was just because Rebecca and her life had once again interfered with his. Her needs had taken over his own, and his life was put into second place.

He marched himself into the kitchen and angrily pulled open the fridge, causing its contents to rattle, grabbing a beer and drawing a long swig straight from the bottle. Pinching his nose, the headache from a mad busy day, increasing. Hoping the alcohol would help him, because he really hoped for some type of release from the pressure he was under. He'd taken on several weeks of a backlog of work to catch up from what he'd missed. Time away from the office and his mind frequently drifting elsewhere had an affect on his efficiency, both in his home life and at work.

She was never far from his thoughts. He'd played over that morning from weeks ago again and again in his head. Revisited all the conversations he'd ever had with Molly since they had come back into each other's lives, going over them a thousand times, trying to interpret what was said. What she had meant. Yet each and every time him did he came back with the same sad conclusion. A conclusion that made him sad, but powerless to do anything about. He now knew that Molly was unhappy, but even with this conclusion Charles still didn't know how to act. Sadly appreciating that it was most likely his presence in her life that had just unsettled her, made her start to question what she now had. Remembering the past through rose tinted glasses in the low times in the marriage. Knowing that no matter what the answer was he could never be the one to interfere, to force her hand, to give her the answers, but he knew he wanted to be her friend throughout it all.

He'd been unsure after their training weekend away how to deal with his feelings for Molly. Unsure how he'd cope being around her again after their one stolen moment when she had held him, and he had held her. Unsure how he should prepare himself for the next encounter, but all that preparedness, all that worry was unnecessary. Their paths didn't cross again that day, or even later. Their transport back home separate, both heading off in different directions. Meaning they'd had no opportunities to talk for weeks. Weeks for him to plan, to work out how to act around her. Weeks to help him control his feelings, but then he got the phone call and all thoughts all plans disappeared. It was a phone call that once again made him flee to Rebecca's side to help, and to put Molly back into second place in his world.

Her father, frail and elderly was unwell. Seriously unwell, and had been admitted to hospital. Charles and Rebecca's parents had remained close, John especially treating Charles with respect and thanks at the help he'd continued to give his daughter over the years. So this phone call, unlike the ones he'd received before from Rebecca, was not an urgent one demanding his help, but rather a heart breaking one telling him the bad news about her father's illness.

Charles therefore on arriving home after the exercise very quickly turned himself around and drove off to see his previous father in law. His friend. He wanted to be there, needed to be, and appreciated the call as it was to allow him time to say goodbye. Charles was surprised at the strength and calmness Rebecca showed through out it all. Something that had been sorely missing from her personality over the years. Once the final goodbyes were said Charles stayed with Rebecca and her Mum for the next several days, both women understandably upset, and depending heavily on Charles to deal with the arrangements. He'd expected the worst, expected the usual crumbling of her reserve, but it didn't happen. Rebecca remained in control of herself, and despite him taking time off work to be there for her, for Sam, for the family, he found she wasn't as dependent on him quite like she used to be in the years gone by. Rebecca was stronger than she had ever been before. It pleased him, made him feel proud of her, and what she'd achieved. He also felt a release, gave him hope.

His phone interrupted his thoughts as he lay stretched out on the sofa in the kitchen. Enjoying the quietness of the house, preparing himself mentally for the upcoming funeral. He resented the intrusion of his peace, having been in demand all day. He looked at his watch and realised the not too unreasonableness time of the night for a call.

"James. He barked out, almost too sternly.

Work colleagues knew and accepted his abruptness. Laying blame at the feet of his military years. His family knew of it too, of his sternness, and just went with it. So it didn't concern him when he realised what he'd done. Conceitedly knowing that he'd be forgiven.

There was silence, and he felt the shoots of annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He wanted peace not ineptitude.

Then suddenly a quiet voice spoke. It rocked his world.

"It's me. Molly. Sorry." She cringed as the words stumbled out of her nervous mouth.

He sat up quickly, cursing the rush of blood the sudden move caused his head to throbbed even more. Momentarily making him doubt whether the drinking with such a bad head has been such a wise move.

"Molly?" He asked. Unbelieving. He'd never spoken to her on the phone before. Never had a reason to.

"Yeah. Look sorry I can go if this is a bad time." She uttered down the line. She'd been shocked by his harshness. Unsure what she'd expected, but to be shouted at, like he used to shout in the old days, hadn't crossed her mind at all. Within those few seconds of answering she regretted calling.

"God no. Sorry." He tugged the curls on his head as he held the phone ridiculously tight to his ear with the other hand just in case he missed any of her words. Wanting to hear more from her. Hoping he hadn't scared her off.

"Sorry for snapping. I was off in another world. That was all." He explained.

"Oh. It's OK." She replied. "Haven't heard you that shouty for a long time." She relaxed a little down the line, and so did he. "So was it?" She asked.

"What?" He felt as though she'd started a conversation with him long before he'd answered. He was unsure what she meant.

"Any better than this one? The other world you was in." She half joked back walking herself up and down the empty room she was calling him from.

He shook his head, understanding now, and remembering it was the phone he was talking to her on, he said.

"No. Sadly." Then sighed. "Same old shit."

"Oh."

"You OK?" He asked. Conscious there must have been a reason for her to call. Neither of them comfortable enough to call each other without a reason.

If the truth be told it had taken her a long time to sum up the courage to call him. Doubtful as to whether it was the right thing to do. Ashamed of how she had acted around him last time they were together. Feeling guilty and disloyal to Pete, but still needing to speak to Charles again. She'd hoped to see him at training, but when he'd failed to turn up, and she regretted the missed opportunity. Doubtful if she'd ever get another opportunity, but then it came. Pete unexpectedly out for the evening, giving her the perfect excuse, leaving her alone to call him. She justified the call as a simple call to a bereaved friend, but still she felt wrong and underhand in doing it. Yet do it she did.

"I...errr just wanted to call. To say I'm sorry." She offered. "Saw Sam today for the first time in a while. He said his Grandad has died. I'm sorry Charles."

"Oh I see. Yes. That's right." Charles said, not too surprised Sam had told her. He been close to his Grandad.

"Well...I just wanted to say sorry. You know? Check you're ok in the circumstances. Offer my sympathies... and check you're OK." Molly said again. He could hear her nerves down the line. "It's hard losing a parent. Losing someone you love."

The conversation stilled for a moment as they both reflected just how true her words were to them both.

"It is. Thanks Molly, that's kind, but it was Sam's Grandad, not Granpa. Rebecca's dad not mine". Charles explained.

"Oh. Shit sorry." Shocked she'd got it wrong. That she'd just presumed. "I thought...oh well that's ok then." Then realising how bad that sounded she ploughed on. "Shit. No I mean... I'm pleased it wasn't your dad."

He laughed, and it sounded like a happy chuckle to her, as it travelled down the phone line. He realised it was the first time he'd laughed in weeks. Realised she still had the ability to do that to him. To pull him from the blackness into the sunshine.

"That's fine Molly. I know what you mean." His voice gave away the smile he now had.

"I'm still rubbish at saying the right thing...ain't I Bossman?" She asked.

"No Molly you're not. It's fine honest." He kindly replied. He'd gotten used to how her tongue ran away from her at any time, and it was one of the most endearing things about her.

"So were you close? Sam was a bit upset and that." She asked, continuing the conversation.

"Yeah. John. Rebecca's Dad, he was a good man. We got on well. He was a friend." Charles finished off with definite sadness to his voice.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She wanted to ask so much more but worried it wasn't the right time. Knew that even if it was the right time, he might not even share it with her.

Charles lay back down on the sofa. Feeling relaxed. The headache almost gone. The soothing balm of Molly and the beer finally working. He held his phone in one hand as the other settled crossed behind his head. He looked to all intents relaxed. He willing continued.

"He was a good dad too. Always there for Rebecca."

"Did you see him much.? She interrupted. The worlds came out of her mouth before she could stop them. She tried to salvage the situation. "I mean you were friends like? You'll miss him?"

"Yeah. I will Molly. I really will." He confessed. Suddenly his head ached again, as he remembered the ups and the downs he had shared with Rebecca's father. His main partner in sorting out all of Rebecca's problems. "Saw him a lot over the years. He was Sam's Grandad after all. Plus I'd still see him when Rebecca was around. He helped me a lot, especially when Rebecca moved back in."

The words hit her hard. Stunned her, and she went to her default mode of playing savagely with the ragged skin on her fingers as she clamped the phone between her shoulders and ear.

She slid slowly down the wall. Her previous pacing no longer necessary. She needed to calm herself, gain calm over the torrent of feeling his words had stirred up in her. She stayed silent for a moment too long and he wondered if she was still there.

"I…" She spoke. "I never realised you and Rebecca's got back together."

He knew now why there had been a gap in their conversation.

"Oh hell no." He drew in a big breath, all too aware she didn't know the full story of his and Rebecca's life. "We never did. We didn't. It's complicated. She was Sam's mum."

"Oh?" Was all she said.

Then silence, again.

"Anyway I best be going. Sorry. I thought it was your Dad and that and just wanted to see if there was anything I could do."

"I know. Thank you Molly. That's really kind." He sighed. Then paused. "Molly?"

"Yes Charles."

"How are you? You know, the other week…I've been worried." Events had interfered, but he should not have let them. "I should have called you….you know to see if you were OK."

"Nah. Best you didn't." She answered back. "I mean the other week. Well I shouldn't have….you know…...bit awkward and all that. Snivelling on your CO's shoulder about a bleeding domestic." Her guard was up, unsure if she wanted him to see her as weak.

"I'm more than that?" He grabbed courage from somewhere. "I mean , I'm more than your CO, aren't I Molly."

She wasn't prepared for such a personal and leading question. Unsure how she could answer it. How she could reconcile all the feelings she had swirling around her heart. So instead she stayed silent.

"I need you to know." He filled the silence. "Me and Rebecca. There was never...well we didn't...we weren't...not after the divorce." He struggled to get the important message out.

"Oh." Stupid that's how Molly thought she sounded. Only able to push single words out during this call. The girl who he knew would never shut up once upon a time. Her she was wanting to talk to him about so much more, but couldn't, and too frightened that he may not want to hear it anyway.

"I need you to know that." Charles ploughed on. "She had problems and I helped her. Still do. She'd lost everything. I couldn't sit by and watch her lose Sam too."

"Maybe." She said quietly. "Maybe. You'll tell me about it one day?" She needed to know his story before she could share her own.

He snorted out. "Yeah maybe I will. But for now Molly I just need you to know, that we were separated, divorce by the time I went on that tour. I was for all intents and purpose free."

"I know." And it was true, after all this time she knew he was nothing but a decent man, not one to prey on a scared young girl away on her first tour. She resumed her pacing around her empty sitting room. Struggling to keep the tears at bay. "I know."

His voice low and caring. It only served to allow her tears to fall.

"I would never had... never done anything... put you in that position. You know that right?"

"I know." She said hoping her voice sounded normal despite the tears that freely fell. They were falling for missed opportunities. For the past and very much for the presence.

"Besides." He continued. "We were in the middle of a war zone. It wouldn't have been right, I wouldn't have put you in that position. I had a duty of care."

"Yes. I know...it just..." She never finished.

"I need you to know, to know one important thing Dawes." He spoke over the top of her. "I cared. Cared a lot and would never have done anything that put you in harms way... professionally or...personally."

She smiled at his confession.

"Thank you Bossman. I cared too... a lot." Her voice hitched.

"Never doubt that I didn't have feelings for you then Molly. Never." He said the last words with the authority she remembered. He needed her to understand. "Had things been different ..."

He heard her catch her breath again as he said the last few words and then he halted. He knew she understood, and was unsure if that helped. Whether he'd been fair.

"Anyway Dawes. I guess you're busy." He needed this to stop, before it went too far. "Thanks you for calling. It means a lot."

"Oh. Ok then. Right." She struggled with the abruptness of it all. One moment he was confessing. Getting close to opening up, to speaking words she used to dream she'd hear from him, and then he stopped. Ended it all. She thought that if only he could see her face he'd be able to see how his words had affected her, then he may have continued. "Well right then. Take care Charles."

"Thanks Molly" He said stiffly. "You too. See you soon."

"Bye." She offered, but knew he'd disconnected the call before her last words were out.

Again her life was filled with silence and words unsaid.

As funerals went this one had been a good one. A happy one. A room full of people who remembered a good man and were thankful he had been in their lives. Charles had offered a few words in the church. Reading out a favourite poem both he and John had loved. As he had stood at the front he had watched how John's wife, daughter and grandson stood together, united in their grief, but also in their love for one another. Sam a young man the whole family was proud of supported his mother on one side and his Grandmother on the other.

"Thank you for today." Rebecca offered as she sat down next to him holding out a glass of wine for him to have. The day was coming to a close. "We couldn't have done it without you."

She sat close and leaned in to him, as she pulled her legs up on the sofa, pressing her head onto his arm. He watched her settle and accepted her closeness to him. It was something she'd always needed, physical contact, even if it was just a gentle touch from him. He was just simply grateful for them being two people who were very comfortable with each other's company. He mused, when she had her good times it could have been so easy for them to have slipped back into some type of casual relationship. Some type of relationship that plugged the gap of loneliness they had felt over the years. Rebecca had been very clear that it was something she'd have wanted on more than one occasion. Yet they didn't, Charles couldn't, and made that clear, and Rebecca just knew she shouldn't and accepted his numerous rejections to her advances. Instead Charles made sure they worked as friends and stayed only as friends. Any other relationship, slipping back into old habits he knew would have been toxic for them both. And so neither one of them chose to rock the boat, and so friends they remained.

"Your Mum asleep?" He asked as he flipped through the TV channels. Sipping his wine, casting his eye over his mobile. Half expecting, half hoping for a text, something from Molly, but nothing came. He'd been sitting on his own for a while, Sam had already left, and all he had done was think about Molly.

"Yes. Think today oddly helped her. She seems more settled." Rebecca replied.

"I guess that's what they're for." He said. "Funerals. A time to say goodbye. Mark the end, or the beginning or something like that." He trailed off.

"Guess you're right." Rebecca thoughtfully replied. "She'll miss him. I mean we all will, but when you've been married for nearly fifty years you're bound to miss them."

"Yeah. Big change. To have loved someone for that long." He mused. "Then to lose them."

They both sat and looked at the screen, neither one of them interested enough to follow what they watched. Instead both were lost in their own worlds of love, regret and goodbyes.

"I'm sorry." Rebecca finally spoke. He eyes stinging with tears. "I've never really said that before to you. But I am."

"What for he?" Mumbled through some wine. Not overly concerned with the emotional outburst he'd just heard. He'd heard many a similar one before.

"I messed up your life didn't I?" She replied.

He turned to look at her. Understanding the depth of her apology. Watching the sadness in her eyes, but also noting the control in her voice.

"After Sam. When I wasn't well. When you gave up everything for me." She sighed. "I messed up your life. From that day on wards."

"No." He held her hand looking at her. "No Rebecca. You needed me. Sam needed me. All of that wasn't your fault."

"A big part of it was, but you never gave up on me did you? Not once." She asked. "You should hate me."

" I don't, and I never will." He said firmly. "But no I guess I didn't give up on you." He smiled. "I love you, as a friend. I love Sam. I couldn't just walk away from you."

"Mmmm. But you did give up on living for you though didn't you Charles?" She smiled sadly. "I did that to you."

He had no words for her. She was right, but him telling her so wouldn't change a thing. Instead he just held her hand tighter.

"Did you ever find anyone? You know, afterwards?" She asked.

He smiled. Over the years they had shared. Shared a lot, but his love life had always been off the table for discussion. He was too private, and her needs were always too great at times to focus on his. Yet here she was stronger than he had ever seen her and she wanted to talk. She now wanted that two way dialogue that had so often been missing in their relationship over the years.

"Not really." He admitted. "Didn't try. There never was anyone."

"But I think there was once? Way back? At the start of all my shit.?" She saw him look amazed. Knowing she'd been right. "There was wasn't there? You fell in love with someone."

"How the bloody bell did you know?" He asked surprised.

"Cause I know you Charles James. I know what you're like when you're in love. Your Mum too, we knew, but we never said."

"It was complicated." He said and laughed as he'd said those words to Molly so many times when touching on Rebecca's and his story.

"Wish you had said something. Though I don't know if it would have made a difference." He continued. "You. Sam. Well I guess you just needed me more. And then by the time you didn't….. it's too late."

"Charles." She reached up and pecked his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"I know." He accepted the peck and smiled.

He turned his focus back to the TV. She knew the signs, he'd closed off again from her. She got to stand, but then reconsidered it. Wanting to push a bit more.

"What about now?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" He asked. He had felt a wave of relief passed through him when he thought she was leaving the subject. Moving on. How wrong he'd been.

"I mean what about now? Is there someone now?" She wagged her finger at him as though he was a naughty child needing to confess.

"Yes." He said before he time to think. Caught off his guard. The words rushing out so fast that he needed to clarity them. "Well no. It's too late now any how. There can't be, not anymore."

She turned her full body to look at him. Amazed at his confession.

"Is it the same woman? Still?" Unbelieving what she was hearing.

He nodded his head.

"Bit fucking pathetic isn't it?" He asked. "To be in love all this time and to have done nothing about it."

"No." She answered: her heart sad that he'd lost someone so precious to him. "Is there no chance?"

"Most definitely not." He ran his hands across his face as though he was rubbing away the memory of her, of the day he'd just endured, or the life he'd lost. "I didn't see her for a long time, by the time I did it was too late."

"That's a shame." She offered quiet sympathies. "Are you sure though Charles? Could you not try?"

He leaned his head down, chin almost resting on his chest. Hiding his face from her.

"You've no idea how I wish it wasn't too late. That we could try again, but we can't."

"You still love her don't you." Rebecca stated quietly, but he took it as a question.

"Yes." He answered, because no matter what happened in this world he always knew that Charles James would always love Molly Dawes.

"Then it's got to be worth a try. Hasn't it?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"Why Charles?" She pressed on. "I don't understand."

"She's married." He spat out. Feeling weak and foolish in being caught in such a hopeless position.

Rebecca needed to say no more. She leaned over and gave his knees a gentle squeeze then went to leave.

She knew that it was reason enough and the strict code that Charles ran his life by would never allow him to come between another and their marriage. He was too decent a bloke for that, and if anyone should know that she should after all these years of devotion he'd shown to her and Sam. Still it made her very sad that this wonderful man had missed out because of her, because of time and because of common decency.

She'd almost made it to the door, but asked one more question.

"What was it about her that made her so special? For you to love her all this time?" She asked with a small but surprisingly bite of jealousy in her voice.

He looked at his ex wife, the person who despite it all he still called a friend.

"Her eyes. Her beautiful expressive eyes." He smiled at the thought of them. "The first time I looked into them I saw hurt. I shouted at her, belittled her in-front of her new section." What he had done all those years ago had made him uncomfortable for many reasons. "When she looked at me though it was though she saw what I could be and at the same time as seeing me for who I am.

"You're a good man Charles. She saw that." Rebecca's offered.

"Am I? I wasn't nice to her when we first met. Went out of my way to test her, to show everyone her weakness. But she never gave in. Never stopped looking at me with those eyes. She still looks at me that way." He smiled, nodding at the memory of her, even though it hurt. "Her eyes and her smile. She always used to be smiling."

"What are you going to do?" Rebecca asked.

"I really don't know." He looked at her. "Any ideas?"

"Does she know?" She continued. "I mean about how you feel?"

"No. I don't think so. I don't know." He jumped up and started to pace. "She can't. It would cause too many problems in her life."

"Would it?" Rebecca questioned.

"Hell yes Rebecca. I hurt her once." Now standing by the window. He stared outside at the spring night. Running though the last time, sixteen years ago he'd come close to totally exposing his heart. How he'd held her hand and asked her to come back to him. How he'd implied so much, but never delivered, and lost her. "I can't do it to her again."

"Then you have to let her go Charles." She'd moved up behind him now and gently placed her hands on his tense back. "For her sake, and your own."

He spun around as though her words were a revelation to him, but they weren't. He knew the truth in what she said.

"Let her go Charles, and move on. She has." She reached up and held his face, stroking it gently with her thumbs. Looking into his beautiful brown orbs that were over loaded with unshed tears.

"I know." He choked out.

"Let her go. Move on. Find someone else to love." Were her last words of advice as she left the room with one final sad smile.

He watched her retreat. She was right, it was the only way.

To have a life, to start living again he had to stop using the past as an excuse as to why he wasn't moving forward.

He had to give Molly and all thoughts of her up.


	5. Chapter 5

**All Change **

**Chapter 5**

Rebecca's advice only reinforced what his heart already told him. What he knew he needed to do.

Eventually after his absence from the training nights there came a time when he had to see her again. Where he had to see Molly and he knew what he needed to do .

He needed to keep it strictly professional between them, Charles sure that he could, despite how difficult she might make it. She remained the beautiful friendly Molly, he'd always known, who he imagined only saw him as a friend, and not a threat to her marriage. Seeking him out, being friendly with him above and beyond. Yet he needed to resist it. There was too much at stake for him to weaken. He needed to do the right thing for Molly, for them both and so, was friendly with her, but only just.

She saw the change in him though and felt it as the weeks went by, and though it made her feel sad, she began to accept it. Molly knew that this man had been filling her thoughts, both waking and sleeping, far more than he should have. Feeling the guilt creep over her whenever she looked at Pete, or examined their marriage. She'd known she'd done nothing technically wrong, hadn't been unfaithful, but knew it was just that, a technicality. She had deep feelings for Charles, feeling a married woman she knew shouldn't still have.

And so they eventually danced around each other, both trying to behave as though all was as it should be, but both knowing it wasn't. It was as if they both knew and neither of them were willing to take the risk of being alone with each other again or exposing themselves emotionally.

Charles dug in, worked harder to try to erase her from his thoughts. He was a gentleman, always had been, and knew he could become a complication in her life. Something she didn't need. It wouldn't be fair, remembering his own marriage in its early stages. He knew her marriage needed tending to, worked at, something him and Rebecca's had miserably failed at. He didn't want that for Molly. She needed Pete, not Charles . Their differences needed to be sorted out and he was very aware that she couldn't move on, do anything if he was still in the picture. Consciously or unconsciously he knew there was still a part of her that could easily start to depend on him, and it was that dependency might lead to the destruction of her marriage.

He considered her, but also considered himself. He knew that he needed something in his life. Something for him, putting himself first, an act he hadn't done for a very long time. And so in true military fashion he debated the pros and cons of it all, and ultimately knew he had to move on. Leave the dream of Molly behind, and that just what he tried to do.

It wasn't how it should be. No one should force themselves into a relationship, but this is what he did. Once content with his life, changes need to be made, and as he effectively cut himself off from any active social life, the few loyal friends he had all in stable relationship, he had few choices. So he found himself, soon after that Valentine's weekend, calling Gemma. Nervous and unsure as to how to begin. The confident man that was always there quickly replaced, as she answered his call, by a nervous teenager type. The call from Charles surprised her and the asking her out on a date even more. When it was all over, when she had said 'yes' and plans were made, he found it incredible that it was something he hadn't done since Rebecca back in his twenties.

Over the years it was fair to say he hadn't live like a total monk, he knew that, but hadn't been promiscuous either. He was too much of an old fashioned gent. The few, the very, few liaisons he had had had been short lived, almost pick ups at work parties, and satisfied a basic need in him. None of them had ever been entered into with the presumption of anything long term. They never intruded on his and Sam's life, and never involved his family. They were just for him, for a while. Short and necessary, sometimes entered into by both parties with that understanding, but regrettably once or twice entered into with different ideas, leading to uncomfortable endings. Charles had never sort out anything long term, just a release. That was until now.

He knew this start with Gemma was different. He was different. He wanted something more. It may work out, but his mindset going into this relationship was different from all the other times. This made him uneasy, and to say he was nervous therefore was an understatement. Unsure of the whole etiquette of dating again, finding the first few times he went out with her hard. He appreciated it was him though and tried. Offering date after date with her, which she accepted each with a happy smile. He thought he must have been doing something right.

The first date began awkwardly. Both wondering how their relationship would translate from just friends to something more. Gemma was smart, pretty and successful in running her own business, but had been unlucky in love over the years. Wary of exposing her fragile heart. Both had a lot to lose and gain in taking this step forward. He soon learnt though to relax, and gradually they both did.

Each time they met the feelings of their friendships between them becoming less forced, more natural. Easy. He was once again having fun, she was too. Charles sometimes caught himself looking at her for no reason at all, and found himself smiling at just the mere fact of being with her. She was good company, they had a history of friends and lots in common. He quickly discovered she was a lovely person, and who, for now was someone he was more than happy to be around, and that's what he needed to focus on. The here and now. It was just occasionally if he ever let his traitorous mind wander, which it frequently did, he'd realised she wasn't however who he'd always dreamed of being with. She wasn't the one he wanted to be the last thing he saw.

However he put in a good show, tried hard and doubtful that those first few times Gemma even noticed his distance. Both being mature grown ups they took it slow. Both citing the need to take it step by step, slowly holding back on the inevitable physical side of a relationship.

Gemma was ready however before him, and she told him so. In no uncertain terms. Ready to fully commit. Misinterpreting his reticence as gentlemanly conduct. She was kind and patient, and soon he ran out of reasons to say no. Kissing her goodnight one evening, enjoying it, he then suddenly realised that she may be right for him. This beautiful woman sitting at a bar next to him, offering her heart to him. He deserved to give her a chance. He deserved to take that chance she was offering him. A chance to have a life again. A chance not to feel so crushingly lonely anymore. So he took it, and what was once a forced companionship with Gemma soon became an easy, fun ... and satisfyingly physical one.

"So back on the dating scene again then? Eh Charles?" Matt teased his friend one evening after training. "About bloody time."

He'd seen a change in Charles over the months. Heard the name of a woman dropped into conversation, something that had never happened before. So Matt couldn't help but tease.

By now though Charles was used to it. Charles had heard it all before. His status changed from single to involved caused ripples across his family's grapevine. From Sam to Rebecca, even from his parents. They all seemed pleased he was seeing someone, living again, and they teased him mercilessly.

He took the teasing in the fun way it was offered. Even enjoying it, enjoying having something to talk about, rather than it being him asking about others. Yet although it was never said, he knew there was one person, his mother, who had had some reservations about his budding romance with Gemma. She kept her opinions to herself most of the time, but once, just once she had expressed them to him. This was her son, and she knew him more than he knew himself at times.

Early on after the physical hurdle was breached Charles introduce Gemma to his family. Not something he especially wished to do, but circumstances, basically his birthday, made it happen. Unhappy as he was about sharing this with his family, he could see that Gemma was thrilled and saw it as a positive step in their relationship.

Everyone was nice, polite to her, though he could see that Rebecca's smile was forced. She quizzed Gemma rather than talked to her. The afternoon passed pleasantly, but in saying goodbye to his mother, her taking him to one side, she lovingly put her hands on his arms, looked him in the eyes and told him not to hurt Gemma. Advised Charles to be kind, and let Gemma understand where exactly she stood, and for Charles to follow his heart. She wouldn't let him interrupt. She continued he needed to follow his true heart, follow this to find his true love, however difficult that would be. But to let Gemma go.

He'd looked at her amazed at her perception, after spending just one short afternoon in Gemma's company, his mother knew. She knew that he was just settling. Trying to grab something for him after all the years of not having anything. He'd never mentioned Molly over the years to her, not talking a lot about his last tour as everyone felt guilty about the circumstances that happened around that time. Yet here his mother was all knowing that her only child, her baby, loved someone other than the women he'd just introduced to them to over his birthday lunch.

"Well it's early days. Only been a couple of months, but it's nice." Charles admitted to Matt, and it was. Adult company for his loneliest times.

"Nice? Christ Charles don't let the lovely Gemma hear you say that about it all. She'll have your balls on a plate!" Matt teased.

Again Charles smiled, but that's exactly what it was. It wasn't a grand love affair, they got on well. The sex wasn't passionate, it was satisfactory. Her company he didn't long for, it was just pleasant when he saw her. All in all it was just nice. But even Charles knew that this state of affairs wouldn't always continue. Gemma was a clever girl and appeared to be far more attached to Charles than he was to her. The 'L' word hadn't been used yet by either of them, but he knew Gemma was close to saying it to him and when she did he wondered just what he'd do.

She, even in these early stages, had started to make plans not just for the short term, but longer term too. Little things like meeting up with her huge circle of friends, weekends away, family get togethers. Even holidays potentially months and months in a future, which she only imagined would be with Charles . She wasn't settling, she was settled. He saw each and every thing they were now doing together she was investing in them as a couple. Unable to do any but, Charles went along with it all. Enjoying it initially, though he was ashamed to admit it, being someone who was caring for him, rather than him being the carer.

Three months into being a proper couple with Gemma he doubted that Molly even knew, no reason for her to really, but he often wondered what she'd say when she did. He never, not once tried to tell her. He wondered, when he dropped back into his daydreams of her, something he tried hard not to do, if she'd even cared. Their time had past long ago. She had a new future.

He didn't however have to wait long. To learn of her reaction.

It was early summer and it was Molly's birthday. 37 years old and she wanted to do anything but celebrate, but Pete had arranged a party for her. A big party that involved lots of celebration and lots of guests. He'd seen her reluctance over the party as she handed him his invite one night at training.

She considerately invited Charles with a plus one, and he wondered if she ever really expected him to fill the invite. He'd consider not taking Gemma, feeling too awkward around both of them, planning instead on going with Sam and Matt, not making out as though it was a big deal to Gemma. But the invitation fell into her eye-line and he knew he had to ask her. She was delighted at once, their first true public outing together amongst a group of his friends. He therefore happily had no option but to set off to the party with her.

As they walked through the door Sam, Matt and Gemma made their way into the garden. Others that they knew were noisily assembled, Gemma eager to be introduced so much that she detached herself from his arm to do so. Charles, having been told by the guest who admitted them, that all booze was to go into the garage, moved in a different direction to them and started looking to deposit his contribution to the party.

It was the hushed voices and giggles that made him hesitant. Uncomfortable. Feeling as though he was interrupting something. He cleared his throat and made a performance of opening the door to give the couple fair warning he was heading in their direction. He didn't know who was more surprised when he caught them. Here in front of him was Pete guilty looking, flushed, standing too far apart from a pretty young thing that most certainly wasn't Molly. To be fair Charles had seen nothing, but the noises he'd heard prior to entering and the guilty looks on their faces told him another tale.

There was a tension and before he had the chance to say anything Molly came bounding in.

"Sam said you were out here." She smiled at him. The alcohol in her making her more relaxed around him. More relaxed than they had been with each other for a long time.

He moved forward, taking his eyes off Pete's guilty face, watching the young thing take her leave, and he forced a smile at Molly. She was oblivious to it all. She only saw Charles.

"These are for you." He said as he offered her the flowers he'd bought, then dipped his head and pecked her beautiful cheek. "Happy birthday Molly."

She smiled back, and for the briefest of seconds they were both transported back to that tent in Afghan. The look said more to them than it did to anyone else. Innocent on the outside, but for Molly and Charles it meant something.

Pete broke their thoughts and Charles saw his attention follow the young blonde that had slip silently away. He wanted to leave their company.

"Take it the beers are for me then?" He said sharply. And unburdened Charles from the booze he brought. He then left them alone.

Molly sniffed the flowers.

"They are beautiful. No one has ever bought me flowers. Well not like these." She fiddle with a petal. "Thank you."

He smiled at her, wanting to tell her she deserved flowers like this every day, but he didn't, he couldn't.

"I've a present for you too." She shyly admitted as she moved back indoors, emerging moments later with a nervous grin and holding onto a small gift for him.

"For you." She offered.

"Me?" He looked confused "It's your birthday. You're the one who should be getting presents." He smiled as he took it from her.

His breath left him and his legs almost betrayed him when he opened her small gift.

Six beautiful coffee pods all in a line, enclosed in a clear plastic holder, wrapped together with a red ribbon. Rosabaya coffee pods.

"Molly." She almost didn't hear him. He kept his head dipped down.

"Found them the other week." She announced, still unsure. "They are from... well before...you know when you asked me to get you some." She tipped her head to try to look at his face, awkwardly angling it close up under him. Worried she'd got it wrong. "Rosabaya? That's right, wasn't it?"

"Yes." He looked at her, he knew she was nervous. He couldn't help her, he was almost overcome with emotion.

"Thank you." He stuttered out. "You kept them all this time?" He questioned.

"Yes. Never been able to get rid of them." She admitted. "Mine you I wouldn't try them. They are probably well past their sell buy date."

He smiled, had to force some joy onto his face, in an attempt to match hers. He felt nothing but regret.

"All this time?" He shook his head. "Oh Molly?" His heart lurched at the 'what could have been'.

She didn't know what he meant, confused by the differing feelings she had running through her at finally giving them to him.

"I bought them for you. Only you. Remember? You asked me too." She said tenderly. "Sorry they are a bit late."

He laughed at that.

"I remember. Remember it all." He drew himself up, drew in a deep breath and controlled his slipping emotions.

"That was before." He hesitated though. "Before it all went to shit."

"They were good times though. Weren't they?" She questioned him. "Before it all went to shit?"

He touched her shoulder briefly.

"Yes they were. Molly. The best."

She smiled at his words. A laugh from the garden and a squeal broke their moment.

"Come." She said pulling his arm. "I want to introduce you to my parents." And she happily lead him away.

They chatted to her parents for a while. They had lots of questions about their daughter, and Charles was only too happy to regale them with tales of her antics on tour. Something she had talked about to them over the years. He noticed that despite their friendliness to him Pete stayed away, manning the bbq as his excuse.

Charles was surprised at just how much his parents knew about him. How many stories she'd shared about him and the rest of the section. He enjoyed going over old times and took the opportunity to reinforce to her parents just how brave and brilliant she was.

Her parent's company was fun, but after a while they moved away, and although not alone alone, there were still dozens of people littered around her garden, they were alone to talk in a way they hadn't done so for months.

"You look happy." Charles said.

"Yeah. I am. It's my birthday." She giggled. "And I've had quite a few of these." She sloshed up her champagne glass.

"I've no doubt, but no you look happier. You and Pete." He tipped his head conspiratorially.

"We're trying." She said.

"Oh." He looked shocked. A sick twisted feeling jerked his gut.

"Oh God no I wish. Not about having a baby. Still haven't overcome that massive elephant in the room." She looked suddenly sad. "But we're trying you know to get along. Give this marriage thing a chance."

"That's good Molly." He said and hoped it was. That the sacrifice was worth it.

"Yeah. I'm trying to be less... you know." She almost pulled the grin off as she continued. "I'm a bit much at times, and am trying to control that."

"Shit! Molly? No." He stared at her. Hating this ability to put herself down.

"Any way." She said spinning on her heels to look at the rest of the guests. "Your Sam looks happy. I take it that stunning blonde he's with is his girlfriend?" She then turned to look at Charles. "She's beati..."

She didn't finish. His face spoke a thousand words. At her observation he looked embarrassed and owned up

"No that's erm... Gemma." He stuttered out. Then taking a much needed swig of his beer added. "My girlfriend."

She wasn't that good an actress though tried, but he saw the pain on her face.

"Your girlfriend? Shit sorry. I never knew." She spoke with a flat tone.

"She's not a secret." He tried a laugh. It didn't work. "I haven't been lying about her or anything."

"Bit fucking eccomical with the truth though weren't you?" The words came out harsh and unexpectedly. "Sorry." She offered.

He said nothing, and inside he broke a little knowing he'd hurt her, again.

"Look I best circulate." She said, and then moved away from him.

Leaving him alone and perfectly free now to join his girlfriend. It was right there, right there, at her own birthday party that it hit her with startling clarity, her feelings for him hadn't gone away, hadn't changed. Angry that she was here, expected to be happy by all, when inside she had a deep sad feeling of loss she couldn't share.

It was excruciating for him after that. Molly drank more and became very outgoing and over compensated to hide the hurt she felt, and Gemma as though she sensed at threat in the air staked her claim well and truly in Charles. She never left his side, held onto his arm, or hand when ever she could. He tried to focus on her, give her the attention she deserved, but it was hard, and he knew why.

He'd hurt Molly. They were something a bit more than friends and he hadn't shared his news with her. He watched her as often as he could and how she interacted with Pete. Both played the perfect host, and each mingled independently. They were never together. He caught her more than once looking at him, and he tried to smile, but false muscle spasms that each allowed to effect their faces could never be interpreted by anyone who knew these two as a smile.

"Fancy a drink?" She waited for him at the end of the session to lock up the gates. Everyone else had gone home after training. Off to their families, somewhere she knew she definitely didn't want to be. So she'd waited for him outside the camp gates. Waited for him to come.

"Shit Greene. You made me jump." He looked at her, she was jumpy and nervous around him. He'd noticed that all night about her.

He could do nothing but. He agreed.

She sat in the almost empty beer garden, enjoying the warm summer evening. Listening to the trickle of the river. It was nice, but she wasn't in the mood to appreciate it.

They sat in silence for a while, drinking their drinks. This was the first time they had truly been alone since her party. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye as he left, leaving his best wishes to pass on to her as Pete told them all she'd drank too much and had to have a lie down.

"Nice here. Isn't it?" He tried for polite conversation.

She didn't reply. Nervously chewing her nails.

"Come on. Molly." He teased. "You're going to have to talk. Feel like I've been sent to Coventry sitting here with you all quiet."

"Know what that feels like." She muttered.

She turned her head away, in no mood for light heartedness. Since her party she'd been torn with anger and jealousy. Had never expected to find out he was with someone else. Stupidly thought that he'd be hers and hers alone for always.

"So is it serious!" She asked. Trying to sound friendly, casual about it, but couldn't. She now held his gaze.

"Molly." He warned. Looking at her over his glass. "Let's not go there." He knew exactly who she was asking about.

She didn't let up.

"Is it love?" Even saying the question out loud felt all kinds of wrong to her. That he could love someone else.

He shook his head.

"I'm not doing this with you of all people." He softly replied.

"Oh? So it is love then?" Molly wisely surmised. Her heart physically hurt. "That's nice." She pushed out.

He wasn't going to say anything, they couldn't go down this road. Too many pitfalls, but then he did. They now needed to start talking to one another.

"It's complicated." He sadly offered.

"Have you told her you love her?" Molly kept her eyes in front of her not able to look at him. Picking at the wooden table in front of her. Not trusting herself.

He sighed heavily settling down his glass. Knowing she wouldn't give up.

"Gemma." He started. "Her name's Gemma and yes she's told me she loves me."

"Oh." Her eyes filled and she fiddled with some broken wood on the bench causing her to stab her finger. She winced at the pain and the excuse it gave her to show her weakness in front of him. "And you?"

"No. No I haven't." He paused and waited for her to turn her head to look at him. When he did he saw tears. "But I'm going to have too...soon. It's not fair."

She dropped her head instantly. The quickness if it causing her tears to spill down her face. Her hair shielding her slightly, keeping her secret, but eventually as they dropped onto the table they gave her away.

"And do you? Love her I mean?" Frantically brushing her face dry so she could look at him again.

"Like I said." Charles stretched out offering her his handkerchief into her hands. "It's complicated."

They said no more and both pulled on their drinks. Charles stood and without asking went off and bought them more. He knew this, whatever it was wasn't over. Not knowing how or even should it end.

She let him sit and settle, believing in herself for once.

"You left." She looked at him.

For a while he thought she meant his trip to the bar, but then she continued.

"You left. Never said goodbye. You had just gone."

He knew then she was talking about Afghan.

"I had to Molly. I had no choice." He explained. "I'm sorry."

"You asked me to come back to you. I did. I did exactly what was asked, but you'd gone."

"Molly." His fingers reached out and delicately touched hers. "I had to Rebecca, Sam...they needed me."

She snatched her fingers back.

"Why? Why Charles? Thought you said you were separated? Divorced?"

"I was. I am, but Christ Molly she's the mother of my child. My child, Sam, he needed me." He paused. "Rebecca was ill, wasn't coping. They both needed me. She was broken, put Sam at risk. There was know one but me. I had to leave."

She smiled a watery apology.

He continued.

"She'd been ill for a while. I thought after the divorce she'd cope better with me not being around. I was wrong. She couldn't cope. Sometimes still doesn't. So I brought up Sam."

He paused and looked at her.

"There were times I really struggled. Wondered how much more I could take. For a long while I could only think of getting through the shit each day brought."

The pain on his face said it all.

"Sorry. It's just I never knew. Shit. I'm sorry Charles." She offered. "I must sound selfish it's just I never knew why and then later well you didn't..."

"Didn't what?" He asked.

"Come looking for me." She said simply. "I thought you might."

"It was a hard time Molly. Really hard. All I could focus on was Sam. He's all I've ever focused on. My head was all over the place."

She nodded as though she understood, but right here, right now she didn't. If it had been her she would have hunted him down no matter what. Sort him out then they would have been together and her heart wouldn't be breaking like it seemed to be now. His next words surprised her.

"I'll never regret being there for Sam. For what I did." Then taking a huge breath. "But I'll always regret losing you."

She turned herself fully towards him. Surprised but happy with his words. Feeling at this brief moment they both understood each other.

"You didn't lose me." She picked up his hand and held it in hers then placed it over her own heart. "Cause you were always in here."

He smiled but slowly pulled his hand from her heart. It felt as though it was on fire. He could never let her know how he wished he could have kept it there forever.

"It's too late Molly." He offered at her sad face. "You...Pete. You're married."

"He doesn't want kids with me." She said as a way of justification . "Not now not never."

"I'm sorry." Was all he could say without giving away his true feelings. Thinking what a fool Pete was. Having something so precious and not realising it.

"I know. You know before we married I knew, but I hoped I could change his mind." She downed the remains of her drink. "How fucking desperate was I? To marry someone who couldn't give me what I wanted."

He felt as though there was more she had wanted to say, but she remained silent.

"Not desperate." He said. "Hopeful. You always were Molly. Always saw the best in everyone."

"Yeah. Well I'm a West Ham fan me. Got to have hope." She weakly smiled.

"Go home Molly. Talk to him. Explain how you feel." He suggested. "It might help."

"I don't think so. He doesn't want it to...neither do I." She confessed.

"Hell Molly." He snapped out. "You can't say things like that to me. You just can't." He pushed himself back from the table. "It's not fair."

"Fair?" She questioned.

"You're married. I'm with Gemma. Shit Molly." He buried his head in his hands. "Go home Molly to your husband. Sort it out. Sort out what you want."

"You make it sound easy." She answered pained by his anger and unwillingness.

"God no Molly. I know it's not easy. But this." He waved his hands between them. "This isn't helping."

Her shoulders dropped, appreciating she wasn't winning against his rigid principles. "You're right... you always bloody were." She affected a giggle.

She stood up to leave, resting her hand briefly on his shoulder as she did. He turned his head to look at her.

"You always do the right thing don't you Charles James?" And looked at him with pride and love. "No matter what."

Then she walked away.

He hadn't replied to her statement, he knew that answer... yes... he always did... but for one moment right after she had pecked his cheek goodbye, as her hair gently brushed his face he bloody wished he didn't always.


	6. Chapter 6

**All Change**

**Chapter 6**

It was awful timing in one sense but perfect in the other.

Molly had been spot on when she pointed out that he always did the right thing, and he was about to do it again.

He needed to take control back. He needed to be happy again.

She lay next to him in bed sleeping peacefully. Curled up close, but not touching him. It was as though she knew he didn't want her to cuddle him. As though on some level she knew hers wasn't the body he'd craved for all these years. He'd used the excuse in the beginning that he wasn't used to sharing a bed, he was just used to his own space,and she'd accepted it. Just like she accepted the mediocre performance he put in when they had sex. Neither one of them coming away totally satisfied, but neither one of them brave enough to say anything. Charles always feeling a degree of shame at how little he cared at times about her, enjoying the action rather than any emotional connection. This relationship was fast feeling like a bad one night stand gone wrong.

It was true in the beginning he'd had a brief sense of happiness with her, enjoying the newness of it all, but very quickly he discovered he wasn't what she needed, what she was expecting from him.

It saddened him to see the hidden disappointment in her eyes each time when he couldn't just commit in the way she wanted. It saddened him to think he was hurting her, that was never his intention. He'd tried but ultimately he knew she was just a friend, someone fun to be around, someone pleasant to be with. He quickly realised he'd just been caught up in the beginning of it all, enjoying the company, physically and mentally, of a woman after all the years of going without.

The days slipped by and as each day passed he accepted that he couldn't let it go on. It wasn't the decent thing to do. She was invested in him in a way he wasn't with her. Simply put, she loved him, he could see that very clearly every time she looked at him, and every time she came over, she left a bit more of herself behind in his home, but no matter how hard she tried she never left anything of her in his heart.

He'd catch her looking at him, staring as though she was expecting him to declare himself. He started to feel lost in her company, knowing he was failing at moving on. Plainly put the harder she fell in love with him, the more she pushed, the further away he wanted to be. Wanting instead to be with someone else.

He had tried to end it several times, but each time weakening by her quivering lips and tear-filled eyes as she guessed the topic before he spoke. He was a coward, and kept them both in a state of perpetual fear for weeks until he could man up. Until he could be true to himself.

He had tried to avoid telling her he loved her, because it wasn't true. Yet she skilfully pushed and finding that he no choice he reluctantly had to tell her what she wanted to hear. But Gemma was smart. She knew he didn't mean it. His delivery of the three magical words, cold and rehearsed. He watched as the words impacted on her and he couldn't be false with her anymore. She was a sweet, and a kind woman who deserved more, and so did he. Accepting that Gemma was a rebound girl, from a love affair that never happened.

And so, he gently, but as kindly as he could he broke up with Gemma. She was, as he expected, heartbroken. The 'it's not you it's me' line crushing the dreams of a life with him. He watched her go through her numerous stages of rejection. She had been angry, really angry, at first. Then had simmered down to mad and vindictive, eventually ending up with pleading and pitiful.

He didn't feel good about himself. The first woman he'd ever really broken up with, outside of his marriage. The first woman he'd hung his head in disgust over aware that he had potentially used her, a means to an end. Yet he knew the time was right, and it was the decent thing to do. He couldn't impose on Gemma's heart anymore when he simply didn't feel the same way.

It had been just over a year since Molly had come into his life. Back into his life in such a tantalising way, that showed him that if he couldn't have her, he doubted he could have anyone. He had tried, but had failed to get her out of his thoughts, out of the essence of him, of his soul, and failed. So, he rightly concluded that's where she'd secretly stay, for always, a secret part of him. He'd never tell her, never declare himself to her. He'd be a friend, and acquaintance, because that was better than not having her at all.

He still appreciated though that it was right, that she needed space. Time to work her life out with Pete, and their issues. Aware it was Pete, Molly had chosen, despite it all and therefore it was with Pete she needed to make her life with.

It was now fast approaching her first wedding anniversary, and their contact had become very limited over the last weeks. Almost an unspoken understanding between them. It was these significant factors therefore that played an important part in his planning of the extended work secondment. Something that had always been an expectation in his job, a temporary transfer of his office, he'd done it once or twice before, but it had been something that he'd skilfully put off over the later years. Now though with the unpleasantness around Gemma and the inevitable questions being asked by the family, he brought the plans forward and even extended them, opting to be away for six whole months. Away from her. Away from temptation. Away from the regrets he felt. And so, he shut up his home, said his goodbyes, and took an exciting role in a European city bank. Moving his life over, totally away, immersing himself into his new work, his new colleagues and new social life as means of escape. Realising the opportunities and the new challenges were what now gave his confused mind a focus.

Although he planned, he arranged his departure, even transferring his reservist role to a European one, the one thing he didn't achieve when leaving, the only thing that saddened him, was he hadn't got to say goodbye to Molly. His last night in camp, he'd fully expected to tell her, drop it in to their conversation, but she didn't show, she was doing that more often now, and off he went once again without saying goodbye.

For the first few days, few weeks he thought about texting her, about trying to call, talk to her, but he didn't. At a loss what to say, convincing himself a clean break for all was best. It would give her time to forget him...again.

This mini adventure started to take over and had occupied him most days. He even found some days it was easy to forget that he was only there temporarily. Finding, on the days the texts from Gemma didn't come through, that life was good again and it had all worked out for the best. Or at least second best, as was his only expectation. He even found he'd started to relax again, notice what and who were around him.

Working in a world full of younger and significantly higher proportion of female colleagues was a novelty. He was even tempted once or twice by the offers that came his way, but this time sensibly he used common sense and stayed away from 'dipping his nib in the office ink'. The repercussions could have been disastrous.

Soon though, almost too soon and with regrets at its ending, his heart mending escape was over. He left his new European friends with genuine sadness. Vowing to keep in touch, as they had both been impressed by him as he was of them. And so understandably they wanted him to stay in touch, even hinting at making the post permanent, but Charles declined. He wanted home, to stay there permanently would feel too much like he really had ran away.

So confidently he returned. He'd done the right thing. He'd given her space. Convincing himself that all would be well in the world. Yet that feeling of optimism didn't last long. There had been no welcome home party at the airport, everyone too busy. Making his own journey home, acutely feeling the changes that had happened in his absence. Sam too wrapped up and involved with his own love life and career to consider Charles. His parents away with friends. After months of being surrounded by people, the reality hit him hard. He was once again faced with loneliness.

When he'd left the UK all those months ago the weather had been hot and sunny, everything full of possibilities, but now just shy of being away for six months winter had come, and letting himself in to his sterile lonely house he felt the coldness and emptiness even more than before.

"Ah. The prodigal returns." Matt grasped him in for a tight hug. He'd missed his trusted friend. "Good to see you Charles." He beamed.

"Good to be back." Charles replied and he half heartedly meant it. Unsure if that was the whole truth of it.

Being away all those months he'd thought about Molly a lot, but not seeing her, interacting with her, had over time made his heart just about able to cope with the situation. Cope with just memories of her, just as it had done once before.

On returning home he'd continued in convincing himself he felt strong, happy he'd given them some space. Happy that a potential disastrous situation had been avoided, and that his feelings for her hadn't infected her marriage. He hoped it was out of sight out of mind for Molly too, but as the days passed, as it got closer to training night his return worried him. Running through each potential scenario of how their first meeting might go. Concerned how they'd act around each other after so long.

"Small bunch tonight." Charles commented as the reservists lined up. His eyes constantly scanning for Molly's presence.

"Yes. Lost a few due to winter pressures at work and flu. Hopefully it will pick up in the New Year." Matt muttered. It was cold and he didn't want to hang around.

He set off for the warmth of the office. Citing paper work when suddenly he stopped.

"Oh. We lost Greene too. Shame." Matt shot back.

"What do you mean? Molly?" Charles asked. Still scanning the group of soldiers looking for her. He'd yet to see her, and he feared the worst.

"She left. Transferred."

"Why?" Asked Charles but he guessed her reasons, why she had ran. She left because she could face him no longer. "Where's she gone to?"

"Don't know. Never asked. The Corp dealt with all the paperwork." And then he left. Leaving a devastated Charles.

It was one of the worst Christmases Charles had ever had, and with the Rebecca situation over the years he'd be the first to admit he'd had a few rotters. He was miserable. Even his mother ran out of sympathy with his mood, although she suspected the reason why. He'd been unable to contact Molly, had tried numerous times but his calls were never connected. She had vanished, and having no personal contacts apart from Pete he was unable to find her. He'd even pumped Sam for information, but Sam no appreciating how desperate his father was, had no information to give him, only that she'd left the school at the start of the new school year and no one was saying where she'd gone. He'd no idea why, just that it was very rushed and a huge taboo subject in the staff room.

He'd lost her once before, and now it appeared he'd stupidly done it again. He discovered then that seeing her but not having her in his life was a whole lot better than not having anything of her at all.

His first day back at work was miserable. Trying to adjust to the old, now due to the past six months, and unfamiliar routine. His work colleagues welcomed him back, enthusiastic on his return, but he couldn't get Molly from his mind. As the weeks ticked on he tried several tactics to get any information he could about where she was, but always came up blank. The supposed new reservist regiment she had transferred to hadn't heard of her, and so had no information to give.

The weeks ticked slowly buy, and as he had done before he resorted to his tried and trust default, he returned back to losing himself in work. Ever the professional, never letting anyone down.

It was a cold January lunchtime when he hurried out for some mind space and a bite to eat. As he came down the escalator of his offices building her saw her. Almost felt her presence first, before his eyes confirmed it was her. Huddled up against the cold, waiting at the concierge desk, there she stood. He rushed over to her, not stopping to think, not caring. He just needed to see her again.

"Molly? Is that you? Bloody hell. God it's good to see you." He rushed out as she spun around. "You're here to see me?" But he knew by the panicked look on her face she wasn't.

"Shit...Charles. Hello. No. I'm here..." She spluttered out. Then silence.

"So." He shook his head questioning waiting for more.

"Not you no. Look I'm working for a training firm. We use this bank for our apprenticeships. I'm an assessor." She finished. "I didn't know this was where you worked."

He was confused, but more than anything happy.

"Yes, worked here for years. Just come back." He explained walking closer to her. Wanting more than she was offering, but just being closer to her was better than anything.

"It's really good to see you Molly. Really." He told her.

Just then her meeting turned up, she offered no reply to his confession, just the slowest of nods, and with mumbled apologies she left. Left him standing there alone.

"Wait." He tried, but she didn't, she kept walking on, and he appreciated now wasn't the time to make a scene.

She cursed her bad luck all the way down to the meeting room. Trying to put a professional face on her feelings, trying to lock down the emotions she was feeling. She thought she'd grown stronger, since he left, she thought she had it all under control, since he had disappeared once again from her life without a word.

It was once again almost indescribable the hurt she felt on that dark evening at base. Left to hear through the grape vine, just like before, that he'd left. She toughened up though in his absence, focused on her and her needs. Yet all those feelings once buried, had started to surface again in briefly seeing him when she had not expected.

It was actually because of the hurt she felt all those months ago that

had hardened her resolve. That had driven her on, rather than to make her crumple. The hurt made her focus on living her life, and chose to cut him out of it completely. Leaving him behind. Moving on. At least that's what she had planned to do until she saw him standing there. She was afraid she'd weaken, and took the cowards way out. She avoided seeing him again.

He waited and waited all afternoon to catch her on her way out, but he never did. He reluctantly left his post in the cold foyer and admitted defeat, knowing she'd found some other way to leave. To avoid him, that was obvious. His disappointment physically hurt him, his body reacted to the loss, as before, yet this time there was something different, this time he was hopeful. As now after a few enquires through HR he believed he would have some way of finding her again.

His head was throbbing, knowing he only had himself to blame. He'd been spending too long sitting at his computer catching up with the work he'd skipped out on in the past couple of days. He'd been slipping away from his office often lately. Visiting the office block where he'd learned Molly was now employed. Desperate to see her, calling on her several times a day, but finding each time he was unsuccessful, each of the numerous times he visited he kept being told she was 'unavailable'. Her work mobile unanswered. His emails to her not read. He was beginning to lose hope and now the persistent ringing of the front door bell grated on his last nerve. His painful, and confused head, throbbed more as he strode to answer it.

"You left again. You never said good bye." Molly sobbed out strongly as soon as he opened the door. Her hair was soaked from the snow and he could hear through the sobs her teeth chattering.

Of all the people he'd expected to turn up on his doorstep at ten on a Saturday night Molly was not one of them. Grateful though he was, that she was here, despite her tears.

She pushed her way in, angrily passed him and rounded on him.

"Why? Why did you go and do that to me all over again?" She demanded.

He stood rooted to the spot. "I never... I didn't."

"Yes you fucking did." She snapped. "What...don't I deserve a good bye from you...ever?"

He led her further into the house, away from the draught from the door, noting no resistance, and helped her off with her coat. Her boots were thick with snow. Her face and hands frozen. Despite her anger she willingly accepted his help.

"Christ Molly you're freezing." He tensely said holding her hand and gently rubbing them between his own. She stood still and just looked at him for a while.

"You hurt me." Her sobbing continued, but was now less fierce. She didn't pull away, and enjoyed his warmth for so many reasons.

"Let's get you warm." He led her to his front room. "How long have you been out there?"

"A while." She said. Then catching his eye as she sat down on the seat he offered to her. "Didn't want to come in. Thought I'd made a mistake."

"Why?" He asked. Wondering how the ever vigilant neighbours hadn't reacted to her hanging around.

"Scared." Was her only admission before her eyes over flowed with tears once again. She pulled her hands from his. "So scared."

He was powerless, watch her cry, and so he sat down next to her and he simply held her. Held her tight and close, but mindful that if he held her too hard she would break in his arms even more. He soothed words softly into her ear, calming her ragged breaths down, kissing her hair softly without even noticing he was doing it. Sometime later she fell quiet, and he was more sure of her in his arms. He still held her, time passed, and at some point during her emotional release she held him right back too.

Reality slowly crept in to their bubble, like the sun creeping over at the dawn, and Charles knowing his duty painfully extracted himself from her hold.

He tried to explain, defend himself against her opening accusations.

"I tried. To tell you. Was going to tell you, but..."

"You didn't." She finished. Pulling back and looking at him. "Again." Offering him no mercy despite his attempted confession.

He felt the strength of her gaze, and the guilt of what he had done. Nodding he knew she was right.

"Where have you been?" He asked. "I came back. You'd gone. I've looked everywhere for you."

She looked surprised at this. "Really? I know how that feels."

"Yes." He confessed "I missed you." He offered her a soft smile as he slowly held onto her hands warming them again. "Been at your office nearly every day. Sometimes twice."

The smile she gave him was everything, it has been nearly eight months since he'd seen her, talked to her, been close enough to smell the wonderful fragrance that was Molly. Every part of his being missed her, and the smile she gave him now said it all.

"Changed jobs...moved away...clean break." She offered. "Needed to sort me nut out."

"Oh." It saddened him that she had done all that to get away from him. And has it.? Your nut? Sorted it?"

She giggled and a hiccuped from from her recent crying episode escaped loudly.

"Yeah. You could say that." She teasingly replied, heating up with the blush that spread across her face.

He offered her tea, she instead asked for wine, then kicking off her soaked boots and socks she asked for dry ones. Her little demands made him ridiculously happy, running around adoring her, as though she was his to own.

He watched over his shoulder her sipping her wine. His back turned away from her as he set to building and lighting the fire, wanting to warm her, wanting to make her happy, not wanting to let her go. Ever.

"I asked Sam." She said as he poured them more drinks. "Where you lived." She explained. "Thought I'd got the wrong address when I got here."

He handed her the refilled glass. "Why?"

"Hell Charles." She said sweeping her glass around the room. "This place. It's huge."

He grinned. The house to him was his and Sam's home. Where he had brought up his son. Where he had retreated to when all other things in his life went wrong.

He knew it was large, he knew it was grand, he knew in his position at the bank it was what was expected, but more than anything to him it was his sanctuary. A beautiful old manor house that helped him lock out the world and gave him some peace.

"Well you know me Molly. Always the one for wanting... wanting the best."

He locked on to her eyes, wanting her to know his statement had meant so much more. That in his eyes she was the best.

They sat there is a comfortable silence. Drinking their wine and listening to the crackle of the fire. He guessed she'd come to night for a reason. He knew he'd have to wait out to find out why.

He didn't have to wait too long. Soon she began, fortified by the wine. Her explanation for why she was there.

"I'm sorry about before." She offered as a starter. "It's just last time. You know? When you left, back then, I was heart broken... and it felt just like that this time too."

He went to speak, but she shushed him.

"I fell in love with you Charles... back then and I waited. Waited for a long time, hoping you'd come back to me, but you didn't. Then I found out you'd were married and I hated you... well for all of five minutes... but even that... even knowing you were married and had a kid it still didn't stop me from loving you."

"Molly... I... don't know what to say. I wasn't married. Not still anyway. I would never have... if I had been...done that to you. I could never do that to you." He sighed remembering how intense it all had been back then, how he'd hadn't dared to believe the strength of her feelings for him. Yet totally trusting the strength of his feels for her.

"It was years before I could think about myself. Everything from that first day, every bit of energy, of strength was about keeping Sam safe and well. Being enough of a parent for him."

He slumped back on to the sofa, closing his eyes as he relived those painful years.

"By the time I started to think about me, about what might have been it was too late. You'd gone. And I was a fool."

He looked at her, really looked at her. Her hair was drying wildly, messy and only half held in by her hair band. Her face was smudged with tears, and the very little eye make up she'd wore rubbed away. He saw she looked worn and she looked tired.

"I was really happy that day." He started again. "Really happy, so fucking unbelievably happy. "He smiled at her. "We'd had the FOB Olympics, we'd had fun. You and I were bantering away about bloody Cocco Pops. It was perfect."

She smiled at him, remembering.

"I hadn't felt that happy for a long time, and it was because I was there, you were there. You were the thing that made me happy."

"Drove you mad at times too." She laughed out weakly.

"Yeah. You did, but I wouldn't have swapped any moment, wouldn't have changed a single thing. You and me. It was perfect."

"Well I don't do perfect. Do I!" She said meekly.

"Yes you do. You should have be proud of who you were, who you are." He raised his head slightly from the sofa. "I still think you're pretty fucking amazing Molly."

She grinned at this. Taking it in. Pausing before she started.

"Did you ever love me?" She asked leaning back next to him to. Looking straight ahead. Readying herself for anything he had to say.

"Yes." He whispered out. "More than anyone I've ever met."

"It's all a bit shit ain't it." She said hearing his words with sadness. "Bit like a Greek tragedy Pete keeps reading for his Masters. Unrequited love and all that. "

He said nothing, but the pain he felt of her mentioning Pete's name was real. It reminded him she was still unavailable.

She took a moment to savour his words That he had loved her. The first time he'd ever confessed how he had felt.

"And now?" She asked breaking his thoughts and promises to himself that he wouldn't interfere in her marriage.

"Now what?" He turned his head, still supported on the back of the sofa, to look at her. Knowing what she was asking, buying himself some time. Wishing she hadn't asked the one question he couldn't do anything but give her a truthful answer too.

"Do you love me?" She turned her head, still resting on the back of the sofa too and held his gaze. Their faces so very close.

"Molly." The words were painful to say. "Please don't."

"Why?" She asked genuinely. Surprised how calm she sounded. "Is it because of Gemma? Do you love her?"

He shut his eyes briefly to avoid her stare, but found it so hard to resist not looking at her. "There's no...no. No I don't. Never really did... but you..." He didn't finish his sentence.

For a moment she looked confused, and he realised his denial on his feelings for Gemma may have confused her.

She pulled herself forward, grabbing tightly onto her wine glass. Convincing herself to be brave. Braving up like the Molly Dawes of old. The next words she spoke were deliberate and explosive to both their worlds.

"I left him."

His eyes shot open, but he didn't move. His whole body, every nerve registered what she had just said. He stayed still taking big deep breaths to calm the emotions rushing up inside of him.

"Sorry?" He said inadequately. He said as a question to her and not as an apology.

She turned. Arms on her knees. The wine glass in her hands being worried as it was passed from side to side. The little drink that was left making a gently and surprisingly calming noise .

"We've split up. We've separated. He didn't love me. He admitted that at least. Made it easier."

"You and Pete?" He watched her nod slowly. "But... are you ok?"

He sat forward, closer to her now. Their shoulders level and almost touching. Concern for her radiated from him. The news she'd just imparted still difficult for him to process.

"Depends, but yeah. Some days are better than others." Then she grinned. "It's been nearly five months. Still a bit strange." She smiled. "Tonight's a good one though, being here... with you."

He chuckled.

"It is." And it was his first care free smile for a long time.

"I never really loved him you know? Not like I should have. Not like I used to." She started her confession. "We shouldn't have married. We were over well years before that day in August. I knew it. He knew it too. But I pretended, we both did, I put on an act for months and months, and was doing pretty bloody well until I saw you again. Until that day at the fete."

She stood, leaving him sitting and walked over to the fireplace and played with the burning logs on the grate.

"I just knew. That first time I saw you again...it all came back. Couldn't stop it. My feelings. I tried, I think, to stop them... but I couldn't. Then I realised I didn't want to stop them."

Charles walked over to stand beside her. He too stared at the fire, taking the poker from her hands and setting it down.

"I knew he didn't love me. Knew I was always a talking point in his life, the older woman he'd pulled, but I knew I was not his life. He didn't love me like I think true love should feel like. He was a bit of a shit actually, but I thought anything was better than being alone. That's what I felt." She stopped to hold back the tears, but failed.

They flowed silently down her face again.

"Cause I knew what it was like to be alone. I had tried to forget you for so long... be happy...almost did...and then...well that was until you reappeared in my life. And it all went a bit shit again."

He placed one arm cautiously around her shoulder and was relieved when she sank into his hold.

"I saw you with Gemma and I knew. It hurt me so much." She raised her head to look at him. "I still love you. Love you in a way I've never, not once, loved anyone before." And then she stopped. She had delivered her huge admission and needed nothing added to it.

"Molly." He moved his other arm to turn her towards him. She kept her eyes downcast as though she was ashamed by what she had just said.

Frightened he'd reject her.

"Molly." He said more sternly, but still she kept her head low.

"Dawes for fucks sake look at me." He barked out.

Instantly her head snapped up. Her face one of confusion and hurt.

"Molly." He said more gently as he cupped her face on either side with his hands. "Without a shadow of a doubt I love you too."

He moved to kiss her, something he'd waited out for, waited far to long to do. Yet she pulled back.

"Wait. What about Gemma?" Her conscience suddenly fluttered back into life, as she pulled away.

"Gone. Months now. "He answered with relief. "Before I went away. I couldn't... I knew I couldn't... I never loved anyone but you. Sorry."

She beamed at him.

"Shit , don't say sorry for that. Just kiss me...please."

And Charles James, finally doing the right thing, did just that.


	7. Chapter 7

**All Change**

**Chapter 7**

Morning eventually came, but it was welcomed, but also dreaded instantly as the tiredness washed over her. This was their new start and nothing however could take away her happiness, their happiness, but there still was an underlying sense of regret at the wasted years.

She lay tucked into his side as he lay on his back. Her head resting on his chest. The wasn't a gap between their naked bodies. One of his arms was under her, holding her. The other rested on top, completing the circle. Making sure she was here with him, right now and was going nowhere. He needed her close to him. 

"I like this." Was all she simply said and she played with the few hairs on his chest. She noticed there were a few grey ones, and the thought of the passing time made her again momentarily sad. 

"Me too." And he squeezed her closer to him in a brief hug that showed her how much he cared. 

Then there was silence between them. Natural.

There was no longer a need for either of them to fill it with words. Finally, these two were in sync, as one. Their night together, their confessions, had been enough to bring them together. Bond them. There may have been more to say, but for now they had finally told each other that they loved each other, and all the rest would just wait. Words at this very moment not necessary, but actions, oh yes, the actions, the touching, the feeling and the discovering certainly were.

Both allowed their fingers to play. Their hands discovering while their eyes feasted on their finds, on what their hearts had finally found after sixteen years of longing, waiting. Molly and Charles were finally together. 

He'd kissed her that night, kissed her so gently at first. So hesitant, almost scared of breaking the dream he had held on to. Worried he'd scare her too much with his desire, his need for her. And so, his kisses were chase and tentative. Molly accepted these for a while, enjoying them, but soon it became too much. They had waited too long and now here she was wanting to be consume by him. 

He took her lead as she pressed herself harder and deeper into him. Their tongues exploring, their mouths playing a thrilling battle in gaining dominance. It was heaven she thought, perfect. Well that was until his hands came into play, and suddenly she reached even greater heights of delight. 

Charles had walked her backwards over to the sofa, not releasing their newly entwined bodies once, and laid her reverently down on it. Dominating her all too willing body, and while his kisses became more intense, more demanding, his fingers began their own assault on her. She acquiesced, her body more than ready, more than willing to allow it to be discovered by him. 

After a while she realised her jumper had been removed and her blouse was undone. Exposing one of her more practical bras, and she pulled away slightly in worry. He noticed the withdrawal and sat up off her immediately. Horrified. 

"Sorry. Shit sorry. Too fast?" He asked with definite fear in his voice. His eyes dancing across her face in anxiety. 

She giggled and pulled him back down, close enough to feel his breath on her face again. Close enough to see the worry painfully playing in his face. 

"Oh God no. Never." She softly said. "It's just..." 

He saw her conflicted.

"What?" He asked stroking her hair from her face. "Please Molly. Tell me."

"Well. I don't want you to be sorry." 

He shot up, alarmed, siting away from her.

"Sorry? What for?" He questioned.

"For this. Me." She bit back tears and she said the words. Loosing eye contact with him.

"What? Hell, no Molly. Never. Why?" He shook his head not understanding. Moving so she'd have to look at him. 

She smiled and stroked his face. Pleased by his definite reply.

"It's just I guess that, well for me I've dreamt, about this a lot over the years." She chuckled turning her head away again as she flushed red. "And I mean a lot." 

He hooked a finger under her chin and slowly pull her face to look at him. Gently, stoking her scalded red cheeks. Smiling his love to her.

"Me too." He admitted, kissing her lips.

She looked at him. Pleased, but she need to say more.

"Yeah? Well I bet in all those times you did I was better." He went to disagree but she stopped him. "No wait. I mean I bet you had images of me in nice sexy underwear, and that. All trimmed down there and shaved legs and stuff!" 

"Molly? Don't." He needed her to know she was perfect just as she was. 

"No sorry. I'm not putting you off. It's just...well I didn't come here to seduce you. I came here to bollock you. I'm kind of not prepared and that." 

He looked at this amazing woman, who until a few moments ago was underneath him, confident and willing, now filled with doubts about everything that in his eyes made her irresistible. 

"Don't. Please." He said it with such intensity that she forgot to breath for a moment. "I love you Molly. I love the kind, fun loving Molly. The Molly I love is all woman, not just a woman cause she wearing matching bra and knickers, or is all primed for seduction. I just love you, as you are, and will love you every day of the week, every minute of the day... if you'll let me...just because you are you." 

Her doubts dissolved on hearing his words. She beamed a smile back at him.

"Thank you." And kissed him gently on the lips. "Needed to hear that. Guess I'm a little nervous." She explained.

Then taking in the full beautiful earnest face of this wonderful man she continued smiling. "And yeah course I'll let you. Love me that is." 

"Good." He returned her soft kiss. Then laughing went on. "Me too... you know nervous... I mean." He replied. "But don't be." Then he kissed her more deeply, and carefully pulled away to say. "Besides." He teased. "I haven't shaved my legs or pits either! And let's not even start on my underwear choice!" 

Her eye flew open in shock and amusement, and just like, together, they realised that it was the person you loved that mattered, not how they made themselves up. They had known each other in the most basic of times, that's how they fell in love, stripped bare of all the trappings, when it was just simply Molly and Charles. Happy confident laughter then suddenly filled the room, both truly comfortable with each other and their love, and now nothing stopped them from showing it. 

"Do we have to get up?" She asked, aware that the night's activities had left her body pleasantly sore and aching. Her body not practiced in love making for a while, if ever like that, and also not as young as it used to be. 

"Mmm." He sleepily replied and she knew she wasn't the only one needing a slow day today. "Not for me." Then suddenly his eyes shot open, and his hug automatically tightened. "Why do you have to go?" 

He couldn't bare to think of being parted from her again. Scared that they might lose all they had gained last night if she slipped out of his hold. 

"No." She hugged tight back. Then she had a passing doubt. "Unless you want me to go?" She whispered into his chest. 

"Never." Was his reply. Smiling into the top of her head. Holding her close. "Could make us some breakfast though." He suggested. "If you're hungry." 

She was, but wasn't willing to leave the embrace of a man she'd wanted to wake up with for so long. 

"No. Maybe later." Then raising her head up slightly to catch his eye she confessed. "This is so nice. Plus. I'm a bit knacked actually." 

He laughed, a deep laugh that rumbled in his chest and shook her head where it rested. 

"I know what you mean. Molly." And with that they both comfortably settled down again to allow the rejuvenation of sleep to wash over them. 

She woke several hours later to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running. She smiled at the thought of Charles just behind the door, hearing him humming to himself, oblivious she was awake. He sounded happy, just she thought, like her. She lay on the bed and shook herself with girlish glee, more than happy they had made it this far. 

Then she stopped and looked around his bedroom. She understandably hadn't paid much attention to it last night. Too caught up in her passion for him, and his for her. The passion that almost had them making love for the first time on his sofa, like teenage kids, but he at least had held on to a modicum of chivalry and had carried her up to his room. It had been worth the delay, their coming together special in so many ways. Nothing awkward, nothing unexpected. Everything just right. 

The bedroom was big. Bigger than any room she'd ever stayed in before. A large queen-sized bed, in its middle, its size wasted by them though as they had stayed cuddle up close all night.

As she looked around, she saw it was all simply but tasteful decorated, well beyond any budget or taste she'd ever achieve. The en suit, a full bathroom, she'd remember that bit at least from last night, was just as tasteful and expensive as everything else she had so far seen in this house. She felt a bit lost, his pay grade obviously well above hers, nothing she was used to or expected. Her new found flat seeming very modest in comparison. 

"Good morning sleepy head." Charles announced his presence back in to the bedroom. 

He was fresh from the shower and had a white towel wrapped around his waist. His hair damp, brown, and occasional grey, curls sprang up as they dried. His body still very much toned and taut despite his years. She took it all in, but what was the most wonderful thing she saw was the beautiful happy smile on his face.

She watched him. Starring at the body she had dreamed of for so long. The body that last night and through the early hours of the morning had thrilled her in a way no man had ever thrilled her before. He was considerate, energetic and totally delicious. She lingered on his form, of the few changes that had happened due to the passing of time but only just registered them, all she just saw the man she'd been in love with for so long.

"You checking me out Dawes?" He laughed as he watched her eyes feast on him.

Instantly she blushed.

"Might be Bossman." She squirmed at being caught out.

"Not this first time is it?" He asked. "You used to... back then." 

He walked across the bed and she sat herself up. Her smile matching his, but modestly covering herself with the sheets. As he reached the bed, he knelt down on it and crawled across as if stalking her, across to her side.

"You knew?" She beamed at him. "Here's me thinking I was all subtle like."

He giggled.

"Oh, I knew Dawes. Loved it. Played up to it at times if I'm honest." And he thought of all those times in the FOB he'd walked around bare chested in her company to try to catch her eye. Not his finest act as her CO, but from a very early start in their relationship back out there he'd wanted her to notice him. Notice him in more than just her CO.

"Smurf caught me once." She said stroking the damp curls from his face. "Proper rinsed me out about it." She blushed. "Didn't stop me though."

"Didn't want you to." He admitted nuzzling his nose up to hers. "Made me feel ten feet tall when you did."

He then leaned in and kissed her, softly, aware of the swollen lips from last night's passion. She tasted of sleep, of them, of Molly, and he loved it.

Breaking away she found him beaming at her a smile that transported her back years.

"Good morning Molly Dawes." 

"Good morning" She answered back as soon as he held her in his arms again and kissed her face. 

"It certainly is." He settled behind her, instructing her to rest in between his legs resting her back on his chest as they sat. The heat from the shower and the fragrance he used spreading over her as he held her, it was perfect.

"Sorry to leave you. Needed a shower. Bit sweaty." He laughed. "Don't know why?" 

She giggled too. God, he loved that sound. He started to stroke her hair, arms, shoulders. 

"I must stink too." She sighed sinking her back even deeper into his damp chest. "Guess I should get up." She reluctantly said. 

But neither of them made a move. He was warm after the shower and snuggling in to him was delicious. He smelt clean and fresh. She noticed his hands had started to wander again, no longer just concerned with her arms and shoulders, exploring her body further, and she felt him harden on her back. She wanted him too, but felt disadvantaged, dirty against his cleanliness. 

"Hold that thought Soldier." She mocked as she climbed away from him. 

"Molly please." He begged as she stood. She saw his pleading look, and his raised ardour and almost gave in.

"No. You're all clean, and I am definitely not. Haven't even brushed me teeth." She stood hesitatingly. 

"What's the matter? He saw she was trouble as she wrapped a sheet around her.

"I err... that is... can I use your shower please?" She shyly asked. "And do you have a spare toothbrush?"

"Bloody hell Molly. Yes." He stepped out of the bed and dramatically took his towel off. "Of course you can shower. On one condition though." 

"Oh, what's that." Giggling at his moves she dropped her sheet as he walked over to her and held her. Confident and equally as brazen as him as she noticed his attention. 

"That I can join you?" He dipped his head at the request. His brown eyes sparkling with mirth and happiness. 

And so that just what they did. Charles got his way and Molly got hers. It was the best, and most definitely, the first type of shower she had ever experience in such a special way, and she hoped for a lot more of them in the future. 

The sight of him standing there, dressed in jeans and a casual t shirt, barefooted and chopping fruit for their breakfast was such a simple sight. Yes, it was one she'd never expected to see, and she couldn't stop herself. She rushed forward and grabbed onto him hugging his waist from behind. 

"Wow careful there Dawes, nearly cut my finger off." He then spun round and saw her sad look. He'd said the words in jest, but they still came out a little sharper than he meant. 

"Sorry." She uttered feeling foolish. 

"No." He dropped the knife behind him and lifted her up onto the clean counter top. "Never say sorry. I'd lose more than a finger to be hugged like that by you every morning." He offered by way of an apology. 

"Every morning?" She teased back. "Bit previous there aren't you?" 

He stopped running his hand through her damp hair, stretching it down her back. 

"No. I'm not. I've waited a long time for this Molly." He smiled. "I'll go as slow or a fast as you need me to, but one thing for certain I'm not being previous. I need you in my life." 

"You got me." She moved in to kiss him. "100% I'm yours." 

"Good. Because Molly Dawes I love you so very much." He leaned in and kissed her. Knowing her response, but cutting it off. At last he knew; he finally knew what was in her heart and it mirror his.

She pulled away from him after the gentlest heartfelt of kisses. Once they lips had parted, he smiled back at her.

"Now I've got a surprise for you." And he lifted her up and deposited her onto the bar stool. 

She looked at the breakfast bar all laid out and squealed at what she saw. 

"Coco Pops. Bleeding Coco Pops?" Then laughed. "You're not telling me they're yours?" 

"Well yes actually they are." He ran his hand through his curls. "Kind of have been a special treat form me and Sam over the years." Then he stopped and looked at her. "Do you remember?" 

"Course I bloody do." She whispered back, her throat suddenly dry, her eyes suddenly full of tears, remembering the day he'd sneaked up on her and dipped his spoon in her breakfast cereal. That day they had gone to the checkpoint. That very day he written on her arm, and that day she knew she had fallen in love with her Captain. 

They shared a knowing smile, their eyes talking as she poured herself a bowl of the cereal and milk. Then he produced two spoons and they each took a mouthful to their grinning mouths. 

"They were my comfort food. My guilty treat." He explained laughing. "Some turn to alcohol when it all goes to shit. Me... Coco Pops. They reminded me of when I was truly happy." He admitted. 

She held his hand as they silently ate, both aware there was lots of their life they needed to talk about, but in time. At last there was no rush. They sat in silence, their eyes never leaving each other's happy grinning faces, taking in the morning, enjoying their breakfast. The familiar smell of his coffee hit her nose and she caught sight of the machine and his beloved Rosabbya capsule.

"Hope they ain't the ones I gave you." She smiled at him over the rim of her tea cup.

He turned to look at what she meant. Exhaling happily when he saw the pods.

"Err. No…I doubt I'll be using them." He said.

"Don't blame you." She answered back. "I bought them years ago."

"Still have them though." He admitted. "Though not in here. My office. Couldn't part with them. They mean a lot."

"Really?" She was ridiculously happy.

"Really." He confirmed touching her hand and not letting it go.

She dipped her head again concentrating on eating. Last night's, this morning's activities causing her to gain an appetite. 

"So, Charles?" She asked waving her spoon around the impressiveness kitchen. "This? It's huge." 

He lower his head and voice as he leaned forward, head now resting in his cupped hands, and playfully replied. 

"Why thank you Dawes. That's what all the girls say!" 

She dug him in the ribs playfully. 

"Whatever mate." She laughed. "Serious. It's a bit... well you know... nice. Just big for one." 

"I know, but Sam lived here for years too. Sometimes Rebecca when she need help." He held her hand again. Not touching each other was not an option. "Besides it was really run down when I bought it. It was kind of like my therapy, a project." 

"What you did all this?" She asked amazed as it all seemed perfect now. 

"Yes. Mostly. Bringing up a young boy is fun and rewarding, but they go to bed early and have lots of sleep overs. I needed to do something to stop myself going crazy with the boredom of it all." He admitted. 

"Wow." She looked around. "You did good." 

"Leaving the Army was hard Molly... for lots of reasons." She nodded, understanding. "It took away something from me." He sighed. "Buying a shit house and building it into a home for me and Sam was my way of doing something useful again." 

They munched along together for a while as she considered his words.

After a while he asked.

"What should we do today?"

Shyly she watched him. He seemed nervous. He continued.

"That is if you want to do something. I mean..." He raked his hands through his hair. "Fuck Molly. Tell me you're going to stay with me." He burst out.

Her face serious and determined. Answering his need.

"I'll stay."

A smile erupted across his face and he moved in to lifting her onto the breakfast bar and stood firmly between her legs.

"Thank you." He whispered. It was enough. A promise for now.

"I love you." She simply replied shrugging her shoulders as there was no choice. She needed to be with him too.

Their lips clashed and they experienced their first of many slightly chocolatey coco pops laced kisses. It had them both laughing as they savoured the taste, which soon escalated into carnal desire. 

And so, with nothing more to do but enjoy each other they spent the majority of the day as lazy as possible. Returning back to discover each other once again in his grand bedroom, though not before they had rediscovered each other with pure unadulterated lust in the kitchen.

"Now Dawes. I have a plan." He ran his hand softly up and down her back as he spoke. 

She was laid face down, naked on his bed. Somehow a week had gone by and they had spent most of the past week together, naked for the most part. Only interrupting their happy times when demands for work or food insisted.

It was the start of a new weekend and at his insistence, after the end of her working week he picked her up and drove her to his. Shyly, but also hopefully, he asked, as she climbed excitedly into his car if she had packed a weekend bag. He wanted her to stay the whole weekend, just them. Longing to keep waking up with her and falling asleep with her in his arms. Smirking at his words, pleased they both were thinking the same, she produced one, admitting out loud her very same desires. 

And this is where she now was. In his bed, at the end of another wonderful weekend in his company. Physically and emotionally they both had given so much to each other over the past 48 hours. She therefore tiredly rolled her head so she could look at him. From the moment he had collected her from her office they had been relentless in their love making for each other. She was satiated and about to drifting off into a beautiful post sex sleep coma when he spoke. 

"You called me Dawes again." She mumbled her head still dipped heavily on the pillow. "You're doing that a lot." 

She notice his hand had stopped stoking her back and she raised her head higher to see a concerned look on his face. 

"Don't worry. It's nice." She reassured him and settled back down onto the pillow. "I like it. A lot." 

"Good." He planted a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. "You'll always be Dawes to me." She sighed with a tinge of regret that lead her to the reason to change her name, but said nothing.

Charles continued. 

"I was wondering... have you ever been to Bath?" With this she sharply turned her head to watch him. "You know the city?" He gently laughed out. 

It took a while for her to answer. Blinking away the gloss that had rolled over her eyes, but totally surprised by his question.

"Yeah. Yes. I have. Why?" She asked. Worried. 

"My parents live there." He went on. "I'd like you to meet them." 

"Oh." She pulled herself up and onto her side to lie side by side with him. Then quietly offered. "I know." 

"Know what?" He asked, surprised. 

"That your parents live there." His eye brows raised and she continued. "After... well you know... you went... after Smurf... and I knew you were married... I kind of went looking for you." 

"Shit Molly." He exclaimed, not in the horrified way thinking she'd been stalking him, but in the way that she had cared enough to go looking for him. He felt that familiar pain of regret in his heart. 

"I'm sorry." She said, not knowing why. "Found out from a friend of a friend, that type of thing your address. You'd move back to your parents' house. So, I went to visit." 

"They never said. Did they meet you?" He asked. 

"Nah. Too much of a coward." She shied away from his stare. "Sat on the bench outside the green for ages though, hoping I'd see you." She admitted. 

"Oh Molly." He pulled her in and felt her tears on his chest. "Don't cry. Please." 

"I was a nutter." She sobbed. "I did it at least three times over the years. I was always hopeful, but never saw you." She pulled her head away and looked at him. "Don't know what I would have done if I had mind you." 

"Shit. I wish I'd known. Wish I'd done something more to find you. It all seems so wasteful now." 

"No. No. Don't Charles." She looked at him. "It was. It was shit. For both of us, but you couldn't. I understand that. I really do." 

"But we're here now." He kissed her swollen lips. 

"Yeah. We're finally here." She kissed him back, knowing that despite all the wasted years all the hurt, those three words and being here together helped heal them all. 

It was a while before they spoke. They just lay staring at each other, both trying to forget the years and missed opportunities that had led them to be here. 

"So, Molly. My parents?" He asked as he stroked his finger across her face and down her neck. She shivered. "What do you think?" 

"Is it not too soon?" She asked. She was terrified. In the space of a week she had gone from being sad and alone, to being here with him. Scared that if the outside world started to interfere it could all go wrong again for them.

She lay looking at this man who adored her. Watching his face go through a hundred emotions as he played with her body, realising that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. But still she needed to voice her fears. 

He stopped his finger trailing across her body, and rolled himself over into his back. The hurt he felt finding its way into his voice. Worried about her reluctance. 

"No. I didn't think so." Then he suddenly sat himself up on the edge of the bed. "But you obviously do. I get that I think?" Head hung low, his back to her. He felt foolish that she'd rejected his offer to bring her more into his life. 

She didn't move over to him straight away. She stayed lying behind him. It made her smile, his almost childlike actions in not getting his own way. She took pity on him and knelt up behind him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. 

"I'm not saying never. You muppet. It's just... it's nice you and me..." She kissed his ear. "It just you of all people should know I don't exactly make a great first impression, do I? They mightn't like me." 

He half turned, amazed she was still so uncertain of herself. 

"Is that it Molly? You're worried about them not liking you?"

She bit her lip and nodded. "Well they mightn't. Then what?" 

"Molly bloody Dawes!" He pulled her into him, surprising her as he slipped her onto his knee. "Of course, they will. I love you. They'll love you. How could they not?" 

She merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Besides." He continued my Mum already knows all about you."

"She does?" She asked amazed. "You told her about me?"

"No." He chuckled. "Not in so many words. Well in no words really, but she's my Mum. She always knew I was in love with someone."

"You never not once talked about me?" She asked.

"No. I couldn't. You were mine. My secret. Couldn't have taken the questions about you at first, would have hurt too much." He admitted. "It was Mum though who told me I should follow my heart."

"Yeah? And did you?"

"No." He admitted. "I was a coward, and you were married. I tried to move on. She saw Gemma as just that, and she told me to stop. To follow my heart."

He smiled at her.

"I'm so pleased you did though Molly. That you were the brave one. You always were. Mum will know as soon as she sees you... your the one." He smirked. "May have a bit of competition as to who'll love you more... her or me!"

She couldn't t find the words. Touch by his faith in her and in his parents. He'd had shown he'd believed in her all those years ago, and here he was still believing. 

However, she continued. "Well. I'm not exactly a catch, now am I?" 

She shuffled off his knee and knelt on the bed in front of him. Trying to start a serious discussion. Not realising how appealing she looked to him, naked and open in her vulnerability in front of him 

He tried to concentrate.

"What?" 

"Well. Their house. This place. I'm a bit of a fuck up compared to what I guess they hoped you'd end up with." 

He matched her stance and he knelt too on the bed. She appreciated the sight and saw him harden as he moved in front of her. 

"I think you'd be surprised." He ran his hands up her legs and made her giggle. "You should be proud of who you are. What you've become. You're amazing."

"Do you think we would have worked? She asked unsure where the question had come from. "You know before, back then. If you hadn't left?"

He looked at her. In all honestly it was something he'd never considered, them not working. Not now, not then.

"I don't know why we wouldn't have." He said with total honesty.

"Really? I mean." She looked amazed. "You were my CO. I was a green, goby medic."

"So? What difference would that make?" He asked.

"Well just you know? Me being me and you being you. But of a gap and that." She embarrassing replied. "Maybe I wouldn't have been good enough for you even back then."

He moved back and rested on his heels from his kneeling position.

"You were and still are too bloody good for me." He held her hands and gazed at her. "Who knows if we would have worked all those years ago. I'd like to think that we would have, but as for now..." He paused as he leaned into her and pressed his forehead on hers. "I know we will work."

She smiled.

"You're confident ain't you?" Softly answering him.

"Totally, because I love you. You...this amazing woman who was braver before than any other human being I've ever known. And again, last week showed up on my doorstep and showed me just how brave she still was." 

She smiled back at him, her confidence boosted by his total faith in her, and the utter devotion she felt for him. She knew she'd do anything for this man. 

Breaking their connection, she then leaned forward, her bare breasts grazing his arms as his hands moved further up her thighs. He shivered as she kissed his neck. 

"Thank you. No one has ever believed in me like you have." And then she moved and straddle him. "No one has loved me before like you have." 

He shifted himself to consume her again, holding on to her backside as she slowly slide onto him. 

"So, you'll come?" He asked as she started to move herself. Slowly and gently staring intently into his eyes and grasping on to the nape of his neck. Although she was teasing him, already she could feel her core starting to heighten in her pleasure. She moaned as she moved watching him fight back his release. 

"Yeah." Was all she could manage for now, but it was enough.

Their climax together served as a bond to the promise she'd just made to him. 


	8. Chapter 8

**All Change**

**Chapter 8**

"Wish you were coming with me." He said as he sorted through a pile of colourful socks. 

"No, you don't... can't ski." Molly shrugged her shoulders back at him as she lay across his bed watching him pack. 

It had been six weeks. Six wonderful weeks of her thigh muscles getting used to the strenuous work outs they regularly had, six weeks of finding emotions she never knew she had, six weeks them being totally together...and now he was leaving her.

His annual ski holiday with his university friends had finally arrived. Something he used to love, something he'd always looked forward to, but for the first time ever he was regretting it. Not the trip itself, but the fact it was going to take him away from Molly for a week, plus three days more on top of that for a business meeting in Switzerland. Both events couldn't really be avoided, though he'd tried, and he knew he'd miss her desperately.

The trip had been planned for months before they had become an item. Always something in the back of his mind, and not looking forward to the separation he had offered to cancel his place, but she had refused his offer. She wanted him to go, understood this was his thing and he therefore needed to go and have fun.

That was then. Now the harsh reality of them being separated was upon them and now she wished she'd taken him up on the offer to cancel. Simply put she was going to miss him. 

Six weeks of togetherness had shown them both how right this all was. They had fallen onto a rhythm with one another's lives, sharing a closeness, enjoying the belief that they were exactly where they should be, with the person they should be with. Connected in a way with each other's lives that pleased them, though surprised them both at the ease in which it happened.

Charles moved from room to room finding his clothing for the trip. Leaving his packing to the last minute, delayed by his need to be with Molly. He was a man who suddenly found he had a serious addiction, and so didn't want to be cured from it.

Moving back into his bedroom he watched as she padded about, pretending to help. She'd taken to slipping on his shirts whenever clothes were necessary in the bedroom. His crisply ironed formal work shirts looking perfectly, and seductively right on her delicate body. Too long, too big, but somehow just right. She had the ability to make everything look good he mused.

He smiled at the memory of their first date. Something he had pushed her for. Unlike others he'd known over the years, she wasn't interested in being seen at the right restaurant, the right places. The expensive venues he could easily afford. Her idea of heaven, and certainly now his too, was snuggling up on the sofa with snacks and a warm body to explore. Yet he'd been feeling guilty that in all the weeks after they had gotten together, he hadn't taken her on a proper date. Something to make memories from.

And so, it had been in their almost third week together that Charles had insisted he take her out. On a date. A proper date. She giggled at him when he asked, with such seriousness, but she had agreed, and as the date got closer her excitement built too.

He'd arranged to pick her up from her flat and his nerves almost getting the better of him as he stood knocking on her door to collect her. His breath almost being impossible to catch as she answered. Dressed perfectly in an outfit that almost crumbled his resolve to leave the privacy behind and go public. She had looked so amazingly beautiful he was lost for words. His Molly, the one he knew from a dusty FOB was more beautiful than any woman he'd ever know. Who'd even made a West Ham football top look good, but tonight she morphed again in his expectations of her.

She dazzled him with her beauty and style, and he'd felt like a giant amongst men as he walked with her on their date. Proud that this woman had chosen to be with him.

They'd laughed, they talked, and even Molly admitted dating was good. And so, since then there had been many more 'proper dates", as Molly called them, and each and every time, if possible, he fell deeper and harder in love with her. She amazed him, as did the speed their relationship moved. New memories finally now pushing away the bad ones. A new life vastly replacing his old lonely one.

The meeting of his parents was another step in their relationship, and didn't turn out to be as daunting as Molly had expected. Just like he promised her, his parents were welcoming and happy for Charles. They met her with no expectations, except that she loved their son, and over the weeks and several more get together, they started to form a friendship.

Molly knew it made Charles happy that they were all getting on. He'd needed his parents support so much over the years; they were important to him. She knew that and felt so special when she heard the pride Charles had in his voice as he introduced her to these important people. Pride in her. Pushing her slightly forward as she hesitated on their doorstep, resting one hand on her shoulder and the other to the small of her back, holding her, supporting her. Letting her know he was there, giving her the strength to move forward to greet them.

They had even found time to tell Sam. He was totally unfazed by it all, and simply just hugged her in response to their news. His life moving fast away from needing his dad as his grounding force, he was just happy his Dad was happy.

Charles had even insisted she'd meet Rebecca. They one person Molly had truly been dreading meeting, worried that she might be seen as the 'other woman' in Rebecca's eyes. Yet even that meeting had been a good one.

And so, all the important people in Charles' life had accepted and welcomed Molly. Making her feel as though she belonged. His mother expressing all their feelings, when she quietly thanked Molly for finally coming back to her son, the girl who was the part of his heart he hadn't dare to admit he was missing. 

Even though it was all going well, she still hadn't mentioned his new role in her life to her parents. Both still offering opinions about how she should try again with Pete. Both not hearing her when she had told them repeatedly, she didn't love him anymore and it had been a mistake. Their response had been cold, especially from her mother who had suffered years in a generally unhappy marriage, who just couldn't understand why Molly had left hers.

And so, Molly kept quiet about her and Charles. He knew and kindly said he understood, but still was not overly happy about it. Knowing that although he didn't need her parent's approval in the relationship, but ever the gentleman in him he would have liked it as well as their blessing too. 

It was a situation he wouldn't allow to go on forever, but for now he didn't push it. He was proud of being with her, keen to tell everyone and anyone he could. Work colleagues, Reservist colleagues, friends... all people he shared his happiness with. He wanted the world to know, and that included her parents, and her friends. 

"We could go next year? You and I. Together?" He offered as he rammed his thick winter clothes in. "I could teach you." 

She laughed at his struggle with his luggage allowance and the pile of ski wear still on the bedroom floor waiting to be packed. 

"Again, I don't think so. Me and you on the piste...it were hard enough in a war zone." She laughed and pulled herself up to sit at the top of the bed and continued to watch his performance. 

How very comfortable she felt here she thought. In their time together she had spent far more nights here than in her own flat. Her flat small, and harder to commute from. Though he'd stayed a few times, this is where he preferred to be. She didn't mind, his home was lovely, and she very quickly learnt in the beginning that she hated being apart from him. Location not important, as long as they woke up in each other's arms. And now watching him pack she knew she was in all honestly going to struggle to cope while he was away. 

"Have you thought any more about staying here? You know while I'm away?" He asked. Somehow the thought of her still in his home while he was away comforted him. 

"Nah. I'll go home." She gave a loop sided grin. "My plants will be missing me." 

"You sure? It's easier. You know getting into work and everything from here." He explained. 

"Charles James." She crawled across to the foot of the bed where his bag sat. "I'm a big girl you know. I can look out for myself." She ran her hand softly over his as it had stilled in its packing. "Don't worry." 

"I know." He pulled her to a full kneeling position so he could hug her. "It's just I worry. Now I've got you I want to keep you." He said. 

She shook her head slowly.

"I'll be fine. Go. Have fun. Break some deals, and come back to me with the biggest bar of Toblerone you can find." 

"I will." She smiled as he dipped his face to her expectant one. Kissing the lips she was offering him. Enjoying holding the woman he loved while he still could. 

"So?" She said shyly as she dropped back sitting from the bed as he turned to grab something from the en suite. "Who did you say would be there again?" 

He entered the bedroom smiling, knowing too well who she was asking about.

"The usual gang. Showed you the photos of them from last year. Lads I went to university with." He teased her. 

"Oh." She picked away at her nails not wanting to look at him. "Any girls?" She inwardly cringed at how desperate she sounded. 

He chuckled and sat heavily down on the bed next to her. Stroking her head.

"You know very well there will be." He spoke, and waited. He didn't have to wait long. 

"Ok. Ok. Is Gemma going?" She spat out. 

He was very tempted to smirk at his victory in getting her to ask, but he caught the worry on her face and stopped. 

"Yes. Molly. I told you she was." 

"Oh. Yeah. Right." She said. 

It was funny she thought just how jealous she was of Gemma. Over the weeks they had told each other about the missing years, the friends, the experiences, the lovers. Molly had the memory of Gemma to contend with, while Charles has the memory of several men that Molly had had relationships with. He was trying to be sensible about it, but she knew he hated every word of her confessions about past lovers. Whereas Charles had given up on love, too involved with his family, too scared to be hurt again, Molly hadn't. 

She was younger than him, and still hoped as the years passed by that she'd find someone else to love. So, where Charles had dedicated his life to Sam, Molly still went out and lived, and attempted relationships with others. Some had worked for a night, other had lasted longer, but none of them made her feel as though she had found the one. Not like Charles had made her feel, and then along came Pete. She saw him as a last chance, and though fooling herself, she grabbed the little love he had to offer her and the second-best life she could have. 

Yet here she was the one who was showing her jealousy. Knowing that for so long he had resisted the temptation of another relationship, there had been something about Gemma that had ended his drought, and this scared Molly. She was scared that a week bonding on the ski slopes might make Charles realise what he'd given away, and might want it back! 

"Penny for them?" He said as she skilfully avoided his eye contact by folding up clothes. 

"Nothing." She answered back as cheery as she could. 

"Molly." He cooed into her hair as he gently pulled her in for a hug. "I love you. You know that right?" 

"Yes." She said with a definite tone, but he wasn't fooled. He stayed silent; he knew she hadn't finished. "It just... well... she's more 'You'. Isn't she?" 

"What? Oh God what goes on in that head of yours?" He laughed and she felt hurt. 

"Well. She skis. She's tall. Bet she doesn't live in a tiny flat." Then she looked at him. "And she's known you all that time I didn't, and before. You've history with her. It's got to mean something." 

"No. Not at all Molly." He smiled tenderly as he hooked his finger under her chin, placing a gentle kiss on her lips before he continued. "I might make you right that she's known me for years. We've a history... but you Molly Dawes are very much my future and that is more important. Way more important." 

A smile was starting to break out on her face, but only just. He needed to say more to reassure her. 

"You're my world." He said so quietly. Hoping he wasn't scaring her. "Sam, being a Dad was all I ever wanted after you... until I met you again. Now you're all I want." 

A huge rush of air escaped her as she took in the enormity of his words. Her heart was full and was very much as involved with his as his was with hers. She blinked back tears, aware that she'd never felt something so intense, so real, so right before. She searched her head for the right words. Searched for the perfect ones, but all she could say was; 

"Ditto."

"Come here." He said smiling as he pulled her to stand next to him. "You're just so right for me in every way

She giggled as her in her bare feet meant she only just reached to his chest. He had to make the effort and bend down to kiss her and she had to stand up on tiptoe to reply.

"Yeah but I'm tiny?" She smiled. "Why are you so bloody tall?"

He laughed with her.

"You're perfect. It means my, perfectly sized love, when I hold you, l hold you like no one I've ever held before." He pulled her in to prove his point. "It's like you were made for me to love you. You and no one else."

She liked his reply and smugly rested her head on to his chest. Her cheek resting, her ear listening to his heart.

"I'll miss you." She confessed.

"Oh, without a shadow of a doubt Dawes. I'll miss you too." And he held her. Held her for a long time nestling her in his arms. 

Soon his packing was finished. The suitcase bumped down the stairs and left by the front door ready for his early morning pick up. The night had moved on and he climbed the stairs back to his room imagining Moly would already be tucked up waiting for him.

His legs actually gave way slightly as he entered the room. As his mind registered the vision before him.

Months ago he'd confessed to her the fantasy he'd held on to over the years. The thing he most imagined her wearing when they made love. She giggled at his confession, but said no more. No disgust, no encouragement. She'd just listened and smiled. Yet now he knew she'd done so much more than that... she'd taken it in. Stored it away for the right time, and here she stood waiting for him in his bedroom. His fantasy.

When he told her, Molly had laughed but knew. She'd known way back then, and instantly knew she'd try very very hard to bring his fantasy to life. It was a simple one. His fantasy of her wearing a West Ham top and thin black tight shorts. Not an average man's fantasy, but that's what she loved about it all. He'd held onto the memories of her, of them, their time of falling in love and played them out over the years.

She knew exactly which top he had meant. She'd worn it numerous times on tour, and for a while after. However it had long since ended up in the charity bag, so it had taken her a few weeks to source the exact kit again. Thank God for the power of the internet and when she did, she knew exactly the time she'd wear it for him. The night before he went off skiing. She wanted to give her man something to remember her by.

He paced over to her slowly. The vision of her arousing him more than he'd ever know. Momentarily he was transported back to a night he'd woken her from her cot. Sleep dazed and confused, she'd never look more vulnerable and lovelier to him. That was until tonight. Her hair falling down around her shoulders, her eyes smiling at him, and her lower lips nipped in a smile by her teeth.

"Bloody hell. Molly" He growled. Suddenly he rushed over to her. To touch her. Hold her.

"Oi." She teased back surrendering herself into his hold. "That's Dawes to you Bossman."

Her words were cut off and he dropped hungrily onto her lips and kissed her hard, bruising, deeply. She replied just as hard.

He moved his hands across her top and slipped them under it. Naked, her body not quite as firm as it had been, but so close, and still as arousing as he always imagined it would be. Her breast slightly fuller, her hips a bit more rounded, but still in his eyes utter perfection.

He wasn't waiting. She wasn't letting him. They had both waited out too long. He pushed her over to the wall, his mouth never breaking from hers. Swallowing her groans, and feeding her his. Their pleasure in his fantasy driving them both to the upper limits. He took her. Had her quickly. There was no finesse to any of it and neither of them wanted it. It was desperate, hungry, and even a little bit rough, not too rough, but rougher than Charles had ever been before. And as he brought them both down from their crashing orgasms, he utter words of apology to her as well as words of love.

"Don't say sorry." She panted into his damp hair as he still had her pinned up against the wall. Still joined, his hard command not fully resolved. "Don't ever say sorry for that."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He gasped out. Pulling back slightly from her face. "It's just... fuck Molly that was hot."

She laughed, a deep sexy chuckle as he left her and slid her respectfully down to the floor. Her legs shaky underneath her, so she still held on to him.

"You can say that again." She sighed. "Wow. And here's me thinking you weren't a football fan."

He burst out in such happy laughter at her words.

"Think you might just have turned me Molly." He laughed back. 

He called her every day, twice, three times even, as well as sending her pictures and videos of his holiday. She loved that he stayed in touch so much, but each photograph she scanned and analysed for signs of Gemma. If she was in a photo Molly enlarged it and worried over it even more. Charles making sure Molly was kept informed about his ski trip was a double edge sword, she needed to know but hated knowing. Having never really experienced jealousy before, and recognising it in herself now, was a surprise at how it felt, and made her miss him more. 

He'd never been happier to receive a work call whilst still technically on holiday. This call for once having good news to impart. His three day trip cancelled, meeting to be rearrange, meaning could get home earlier, and instantly he made plans for his three days unexpected downtime.

He'd thought about calling her, but he wanted to surprise her. He'd missed her and judging by the smile on her face each and every time he'd called, Molly was missing him too. He formed a plan, rearranged his flights, hoped to turn up on her door step around mid morning on the Sunday. The day of the week he knew she liked to lie in and laze about. Before her, before Molly, Charles had never contemplated such as waste of time. It was all different now however. Lazing around with her, slowly waking up, making love, snuggling and sharing bed space with her was now his favourite day too.

The flight, cab ride, all went off perfectly and it found Charles, tanned from a week's skiing, standing on Molly's door step earlier than expected.

She was slow to answer the door; he'd expected that so he was patient. Eventually though he heard muttering and groans coming down the passage way to answer his call.

He had a smile almost splitting his face as the door pulled open, the funny butterflies he felt in his gut every time he saw her starting up, the physical ache his body felt in her company growing in expectation of seeing her again. Then it was all gone.

"Ah shit. It's Charles isn't it?" A familial, but totally unexpected person asked on opening the door of Molly's flat to him.

It took seconds for Charles to reply. It seemed like a life time. In those seconds though he took in the toned youthful body. Dressed only in a pair of boxer trunks. Hair messed up, and a sleep creased face. The last person he'd expected to see. Pete. Molly estranged husband.

"Yeah. That's right." Then Charles asked still with a degree of hope in his heart.

"Is Molly in?" Hoping the answer would be no.

Before Pete had the chance to answer Molly appeared. She too lacking attire that would be deemed decent to opening the door. Only covered with a bath towel as she trotted down the passageway to see who had called. Her too sleep mussed and only half awake. Despite his fears, the sickening feeling in his gut Charles couldn't help to think at just how beautiful she was.

"Who is it Pete?" She asked as she put her had onto the middle of his back and gentle manoeuvre him out of the way for a view.

"Shutting hell Charles." She screamed as she caught sight of him.

Oh, she was good thought Charles. Very good. She even convinced him for a moment she was happy to see him. Whereas he knew that she wasn't. She'd been caught out; it was damage limitation.

"What you doing back?" She moved over to him and when to kiss him. He side stepped and she only touched his cheek. "You're not meant to be home until Tuesday. I wasn't expecting you."

"Evidently." He said coolly. His bags abandoned at his feet as he stood straight, arms folded almost to protect him from the emotional trauma he was going to receive.

Pete scuttled off down the corridor into a room. Sensing the unfolding drama.

She looked hurt.

"What's the matter?" She asked. "You coming in?" And then as an afterthought she added. "I bloody missed you, so pleased your back."

She tried to tip toe up and hold him but he pulled back.

"Charles?" She looked hurt.

"Weren't expecting me. I can see that." He said.

"No. You said Tuesday." She confirmed.

"And this?" He waved his hand passing it around her flat. "You and Pete. Was this expected? Planned?"

"What?" She asked the smile to her face disappearing. "Oh, shit Charles? You don't think?"

"I don't know Molly. You tell me what I should think? I turn up to surprise you, only to find you half naked with him."

She stated to talk, the cloud of anger and hurt so very noticeable on her face. Her tirade of upset and disbelief interrupted by Pete, dressed, pushing past them both, offering his apologies and a kiss to her cheek. Then he was gone.

The interruption gave her time, moments to pull back from the self-destruction mode she was about to launch into. Time to allow her to wise up and deal with the implied slur on her character in a mature way.

"Come in and close the door behind you." She said with a controlled voice and strode off to the bedroom to gain a dressing gown.

He did as he was bid and followed her into her room. Sick at the thought of seeing the messed-up sheets, her clothes thrown around the room... the potential scene of the crime.

She turned slowly to him as he stood hesitantly looking around. She could see he too was holding his emotions together. She started calmly.

"Pete came over last night. I asked him. I thought it was about time we talked about divorce proceeding." She watch him and his face never changed. It was hardened, set.

She continued.

"We had a few drinks. Talked about the few good times we had. He got too pissed, we both did and he ended up spending the night."

The words were hardly out of her mouth before he shot out the question.

"Where? Where Molly? Where the fuck did he spend the night?"

Her anger boiled, unable this time to keep a lid on it.

"You had better not be suggesting what I think you are Charles James." The words were loud and necessary. "He slept on the fucking couch. That's where. Where bloody else would he sleep?"

"I don't know Molly?" He shouted back. "You're the one all cosy with your ex."

"Me? Shit Charles. You're the one who has been on holiday with theirs."

"So that what this is about then?" He asked disbelievingly. "Revenge for me going on holiday with Gemma?"

This suddenly was getting out of hand. Unbelievable that a man she loved so much had so little trust in her.

She dumped herself down on the bed. He remained as though on guard duty in her door way. Not daring to venture in.

Quietly more control she said.

"No Charles. Nothing happened between me and him. You know that really. He just got too drunk to go home. I offered him my couch. That really is all. Nothing happened."

He stared at her. Unsure as to how he was messing this up. The shock of see Pete. The crushing of all his dreams on surprising her had thrown him off. He jumped to the wrong conclusions and jealousy drove him on to hurt her.

"It isn't revenge." She continued. "It's nothing. Just shut timing."

He saw her head dip; he heard the hitch in her voice and it pained his heart.

"Do you know why I left the Army?" She continued. "Because someone shit on me from a great height. He strung me along, said all the right things. Then boom I find him round the back of the welfare block one night with me best mate." She stared at him. 

"I can't believe you'd think I'd do something like that. Something to hurt you. I love you. Thought you knew that?"

She didn't look up at him. She worried the cord of her dressing gown.

Instantly he was on his knees at her feet. Clasping her hands.

"Oh shit. Sorry Molly I'm so sorry. Of course, I don't think that." He rushed out his words trying to get her to raise her head to look at him.

"Funny." She continued, but this time looked him in the eye as she stoked his cheek. "It was the second time that had happened."

He looked at her questioning

"That I've been shit on. First was Artan. Found him in the club toilets with me best mate on my Birthday." She smiled at the bitter memory. "Two men. Two dick heads. One made me join up to get away from him. The other made me leave to avoid him." 

Then she said nothing. It was his silence that hit him. His face earnest and totally remorseful.

"I'm sorry. I love you too, and I know you love me." He pulled her forehead into his.

"I've just been out of this game for so long." He offered. "I've forgotten how to play it."

"You don't play it Charles." She weakly smiled back.

"I know. I know." He shifted to sit next to her. Still holding her in his arms, he was relieved she was letting him. "Do you know from the very first time I saw you I knew my life was going to be an adventure." He unashamedly quoted. "And it is."

"I just panicked. Seeing him standing there. Hadn't expected it." He sighed. "I know it not an excuse. I just missed you so much."

"Yeah?" She tipped her head up to look at him. "I'd never you know... do that... never... not to you. To anyone. It hurts.

I'm not capable of having my heart in two places. Only one." She stared into his eyes. "Out of everyone you should know that. After all this time you should know that it's yours. Always has been."

"Oh God Molly I know. I really know." He kissed her sweetly on her lips. "I love you. Don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

She giggled, a soft little sound, but he smiled with it.

"You're not going to lose me." She smiled. "I'm a big girl now. Plus, I was always good at map reading, wasn't I?"

He smiled at the memory of them being on patrol together, and how once or twice she had gone off target. Then his face became serious.

"I lost you once though. Didn't I? All those years."

She turned herself and straddled him.

"No. Stop. I'm here. I'm yours and your gonna have to put up with me for a very long time." She smiled.

"I used to be so jealous of him." He said ashamed letting go of his confession.

Molly raised her eyes questioningly silently asking who. To which Charles answered. "Smurf."

"Smurf? I never... we were just mates." She answered. "I mean there was once... but you knew that."

"Yeah, I knew that... wish I hadn't... but I did... but he still loved you. I used to watch him. How he watched you, his eyes followed you everywhere they could. I know... "And then he stopped. She smiled at him softly, her eyes asking him to go on. "I know he did that ... because I looked at you like that too."

"Charles." She stroked his face. "I know." She took in his surprised look. "Well I thought I did. I wasn't sure. Never expected that someone like you could care about someone like me. I used to doubt myself though."

"You and Smurf. You were ever so close. I was jealous. He got to spend time with you, be with you, he'd even sleep in the same tent as you ... where as all I could do was watch you. Even then I couldn't do it too often or for too long."

He pulled her tightly as she still sat across him her legs either side of his hips.

"Thank God for my blisters. It meant we could be alone. Talk." He grinned. "Let me get to know you. The one time I didn't feel as though I was competing against him."

"There was no competition. Ever." She kissed him softly on the lips. 

"After you went though, I needed him. He was a true mate. Think he knew. He wasn't stupid. He knew I wanted someone else." Her eyes filled up. "He tried though once or twice to say something. Even once attempted to give me his mother's engagement ring." She laughed despite the tears rolling down her face.

Charles' heart skipped.

"And did you take it?"

"Nah." She angrily wiped the tears that were falling down her face. The tears that always fell when she talked about her best mate. "Told him he was a Welsh wanker, but I did agree to go to Las Vegas with him."

He pulled her into him. Her head resting over the top of his shoulder.

"I was there you know the day he died. Thought he was messing about, but then when he didn't get up, I knew. I just knew."

Charles utters no words. Just stroked her hair.

"It was awful... he was so young... and he was me mate... but through it all and for months after all I really wanted was you." She smiled weakly at him. "For you to hold me. Have done ever since. So….." She straightened herself up. Wiped the remains of the unattractive tears drying on her face. "Never doubt that I don't love you or won't be anything but true to you."

He kissed her and held her, and would never doubt her again.


	9. Chapter 9

**All Change**

**Chapter 9**

"How do I look?" He was nervously adjusting the collar to his shirt and brushing down his jeans. 

"Ain't that my line?" She said through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

"Serious Molly. Do I look ok?" He asked again. 

She wiped her mouth and walked over to him, putting her arms around his waist. Holding on to him, feeling his anxiety as she did.

"You look fine. Very handsome. You always do. It will be fine, though, you know. Besides if it's not we'll leave straight away."

She surveyed him as he stood there as beautiful as he always was in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans. His blazer hung over the chair arm, to be put on later. She knew he'd be the smartest man there, and had thought about suggesting he went a bit more casual, knowing most of the men would be in football shirts or T shirts, but then changed her mind. Charles without a shirt, without a jacket these days was just not him. The smart suited man had replaced the Army dressed man, his new clothes part of his identity. Besides she was proud that he made such an effort for her, tonight and always. 

He smiled as she watched him.

"God look at me I'm a 45 year old man. Former Army Captain and the thought of meeting your folks as your boyfriend has got me nervous as a kitten!" 

"Boyfriend? Mmmm. I like the sound of that." She scrunched her nose up at him, trying to be cute, trying to make the smile continue. She failed, it soon faded. "Don't worry. They have the same effect on me too." She tried to offer him a reassuring squeeze, but the truth was she was as nervous as him. 

Tonight was important for many reasons. It was her baby brother's 18 birthday party. A Dawes family get together, and despite Charles not being officially invited Molly had made it known that she would be attending with Charles or not at all. Her Mum, grumpily accepted the ultimatum, where as her Dad had offered her several opinions on the man he claimed had broken up Molly's marriage. So, in truth Molly was dreading it too.

It would be the first time Charles would finally be meeting her parents, after leaving Pete, and only three months of them being together. She couldn't escape the inevitable any more, despite his reassurance at understanding her hesitancy. So, she saw Martin's 18th in the local pub as, she hoped, a neutral ground for them all to meet. To get along. Yet as the time came closer she started to seriously doubt her decision, and was in fact little help to Charles' grown up nervous insecurities. 

Still it was something that they had to do. Face up to others opinions. Knowing that in some quarters there would be plenty. Their three months together however had just continued as perfect as it had started. A living fairy tale. Changes to both their lives, especially for Molly. She had begun to accept and enjoy the special way she was treated by Charles. Special, in that during her thirty plus years on this earth she was treated in a way no one had ever treated her before, and she doubted ever would. He cared for her, considered her, encouraged her, in a way that had never been done before. She truly believed that this was the first grown up relationship she'd ever had.

For now, all her strong independent principles were out of the window...but only for now. She enjoyed being looked after and treated as though she was a lady. Something which was very alien to her but something she loved. This man, her Captain, treated her with the highest regard and respect, and she just hoped that her family would see him as a good person and leave their closed minded opinions at home. 

He'd been quiet and nervous all the drive there. They had opted to stay in a local hotel for the night after the Do rather than drive back home. His place, home, somewhere she called home more and more these days. Rarely spending any time at her own flat anymore. The two of them needing to spend as much time in each other company as they could. They were still both discovering each other, learning things about each other, and though time had robbed them of a past they were certain it was not going to rob them of a future. So they need each other's company to do this.

"So, you know. There was once this mission." She began her story as he killed the engine. "After you left. We were off out looking for something to do with Bashira's dad and Sohail." She stopped as he looked over at her. He turned fully to look at her. "Remember them?" She asked. 

"Yeah. Sohail went missing just before I left, didn't he? Did they ever find him?" He'd never sort out any information as to what went on once he had left. His world at that time, and everything in, it too complicated to care. 

"Don't know. We didn't. Expect he's dead somewhere." She offered back, remembering the mission as a total failure. "Any way this mission we were told was the real deal, and I was shit scared. We all were." She bit her lip as the loss she felt at that time came back to her. 

He moved to hold her hand. Understanding. 

"You weren't there. We'd trusted you and you suddenly weren't there." She said quietly. 

"Molly." He shook his head. The guilt of leaving her, and the section, of not being there to protect her still something he felt to this day. 

"Any way." She cleared her throat, getting back on track with her tale. "Focus up was what's you used to say to us. Remember?" 

He looked confused, his head shaking, not understanding where this was going. 

"Stay focused. Stay alert. Stay alive." She barked out in her best piss taking officer voice. "That's what you used to say. Each and every time." A smile broke out on her face as it mimicked his. 

He chuckled as he brought her hand up to his lips. 

"Yeah. I might make you right there Dawes. I remember." 

"Well." She grinned back at him pleased it was no longer anxiety that closed his face off to her, but some happy memory. "That's what we have to do tonight. Stay focused. Stay alert. Stay alive. Two, three drinks at the most. A few 'hellos' and then we can be out of there. Ok?" 

He nodded.

"You know we can stay as long as you like." He half heartedly offered. "I don't mind. It's your brother's birthday after all."

Secretly though he was pleased. Molly had spent many a night lately telling him exactly what her family's opinion would most likely be of him, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to having his charter assassinated at such a public event. He knew she had done it to warn him, to explain the characters of her family to him before they met, but all it had done was increase his nerves and need to get tonight over and done with. 

"I know we can, but that what we're gonna do." She leaned across and kissed him playfully on the lips. "You ready to do this then soldier?" She asked and made her way out of the car, Charles quickly followed as they went together hand in hand. 

Hours later he lay with her nestled between his legs, her back on to his chest. They sat for a while in total silence, utter bliss relaxing on the hotel bed. 

"We're so rock and roll. Aren't we?" She giggled out, looking down at her comfortable PJs adorning her body, with fluffy socks to match. Charles was equally attired, though without the socks. Their bodies relaxed and warm in each other's hold. 

It was late into the night, not too late though, they still had some time before going to sleep. The 18th party had gone off well, they had stayed a lot longer than either one had planned. Martin delighted in his big sister's attendance, and everyone behaved and were superficially kind and welcoming to Charles. Her father's opinion of him, hostile initially, but changing dramatically once he saw the car he drove and heard about where he lived. That coupled with Charles putting money behind the bar to pay for several rounds, ensured Dave's good opinion of him.

Most family members, especially her younger siblings, were their usual selves, a good bunch really who loved Molly, and despite temptation, hadn't shown her up too much. The stories they told about her childhood, and past adventures, not too damming. Her character not totally assassinated by their tales. The only embarrassment of the night was when her dad drunkenly held onto her in an attempt at a farewell hug, telling her loudly she'd done well for herself 'getting in with and older rich geezer'. Suggesting to Molly, as he drunkenly joked, if she tried hard enough maybe she could see him off and keep the lot. It left Molly horrified, Charles merely smiled and waved goodbye as though he'd heard nothing at all. Only chuckling later about it in the car that he knew of a few ways he could think of that Molly could try if she wanted to 'see him off'. But, he insisted, that when she did, he had to be naked, inside her and with a huge smile on his face. That was the way he wanted to go. She laughed raucously at his good natured take on her father's awful comment, and teased him that she'd see what she could do. 

"It went well." He answered back kissing the top of her head. "But God the music was bloody loud." He groaned. "I remember Sam's 18th. It was just as bad."

"Yeah? She hummed as they enjoyed the peace in the room, ears still slightly buzzing. She then twisted her head and grazed her lips over his chin. "You're right though it did go well. Apart from me Dad! Sorry." 

"Don't be." He replied. "Bit of a character, though isn't he?" Then settling her back into his chest, they continued sipping their hot drinks.

"Yeah! But not as much as me Aunty Mel. Bloody hell. Bet you have bruises on your bum tomorrow." She giggled. "Sorry."

"I know." He teased back, all too fully aware that he had spent a large majority of the night dodging the straying hands of her Aunt, and what she saw as acceptable behaviour where his behind was concerned. He hadn't taken offence though, and had over the years seen worse, instead he just took it in the good nature fashion a drunken lady had offered it.

"Can't believe how fickle the Dawes women are though. You had them eating out of your hands by the end of it." She smirked into her mug. 

He hugged her tightly.

"It's my charm and magnetism Dawes. You should know that." 

"It's your pretty face and offers to buy so many rounds mate." She snorted back. "Me Gran would have loved you if she'd been alive. A keeper she'd tell me." 

"Yeah? That's nice. You wound me though Dawes. There's me thinking it was my body they were after." He dipped his head and spoke softly into her ear. "Not that it matters. There's only one Dawes woman I want to adore me." 

Molly rolled her head to one side to allow him better access to kissing her neck.

"I do. She does." Then paused thinking. "You once told me you would... you know adore me...always." 

He pressed his check against hers, dreaming of the past. Of a tent, of a moment, of their start. 

"I know. I remember, and I do. I will. Always. Adore you." 

She simply just grabbed his hand in hers and they lapsed into silence again. 

He knew tonight had meant something to her, it was important. Her family, it was easy to see meant a lot to her, and for them to have their approval mattered. It was easy to see she had a close friendship with her siblings, as well as her Mum, so he'd gone all out and out to impress them. Sitting here, content, it seemed as though his charm offensive had paid off.

He leaned back against the headboard and mulled over the night. He'd seen a different side of Molly too. In their time together their dates had been restaurants, cinemas, but never clubs or parties. This was the first time he'd seen the Molly from her younger days. The care free, and slightly buzzing on alcohol Molly, and he liked it, a lot. He saw her love of a questionable tune, for a good Nolan's song especially, her ability to dance wildly and happily with her sisters, while all the time making sure everyone else was fun.

He laughed at the memory of her on the dance floor. Shoeless and oblivious as to how totally happy she looked with the carefree abandonment the night had eventually brought her.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

"Never knew you were such a good dancer that's all Dawes." He explained.

"I've many a hidden talent." She boasted, wiggling her feet as they still held onto the memory of her dance floor routines. "It's not just you Charles with your school boy choir voice you know that can put on a good show."

"I saw." He confirmed. "Looking forward to seeing it again some time. You know you dancing like your legs were on fire!"

She grinned. "Cheeky! They were some of me best moves." She pinched him. Then went serious. "I liked dancing with you though." She said. "We've never done that before. Have we? Well not in public and that. It was very nice."

"It was." He smiled. Holding her in his arms tonight while they slowly danced had been the highlight of his night. Two very happy souls swaying in time to the music, and for a while oblivious to anyone else. It had been a long long time since he had danced with anyone so intimately as he had tonight with Molly. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to hold someone you loved so close in his arms, and once he did hold her, he knew there would be little chance of ever letting her go. The feeling had made him so happy.

And that's just what he wanted to do, for her, to make her happy. He realised a long time ago just what she had given up to make a go of it with him. Walking out of a marriage, a future and perhaps even motherhood, all to be with him. And he loved her for it. He loved her for the bravery she had shown, for the courage she had to her convictions. To the determination she had to follow her heart. He doubted without her being so proactive they would ever have gotten together. He would never have imposed on her, or her marriage. So, because of that he knew he loved her more, because it was totally down to her that he felt so wonderfully happy. Even sat here drinking the awful hotel coffee was fine, because he held his love in his arms.

"Thank you." He said after minutes of comfortable silence.

"What for?" She asked as she turned her body so she was lying almost facing him, still sitting between his legs.

"For coming bank to me. For being the brave one." He simply replied.

"You don't need to thank me." She smiled. "If I had a choice to make it was an easy one, but I didn't... have a choice to make that is."

"No?" He bent his head to kiss her.

"No. It was always gonna be you. From the very first time I saw you again, I just needed something to give me a good kick up the arse to see that."

"A good kick up the arse?" He laughed. "And what was that then Molly?"

"Gemma." She smiled rudely, crumpling her face in horror. "I knew I still had feelings for you but I don't know if I'd have acted on them so soon if you hadn't been with her."

He stroked her hair.

"I didn't go with her to make you jealous you know?" And he genuinely hadn't.

"Yeah I know. I know what you were trying to do. Live and that."

"It would never have worked you know. She wasn't the one I loved. Molly. You were... are. For the past 16 years... just you."

She stroked his face.

"Ditto."

Somehow, someway that simple phrase had become theirs, and it said so much. 

"But I mean it." He slipped down the bed taking her with him. Pulling her close to him as they both lay on their sides. "I mean it when I say thank you. Thank you for making me live again."

She leaned in a rubbed his nose with hers, taking in his coffee breath and lingering aftershave smell.

"You're more than welcome my love." Then kissed him. Softly, gently, perfectly.

They stayed moulded into each other for a while. Marvelling at the fact that they simply just could. Enjoying the here and now. Drifting off.

"So I've been thinking." He broke the peace.

"Mmm." She uttered back, sleep drifting over her, enjoying his warmth. Then said no more.

He watched her for a while. Amazed that even in her sleepy state she still held a smile on her face. The two apple like cheeks fresh and polished, make up free. Just like the Molly he'd always conjured up in his dreams. He sat up suddenly and pulled the duvet over her and slipped her socks off. Childlike she moaned her thanks and burrowed her way into the duvet. He just smiled.

She didn't move, once settled, and he thought she'd fallen asleep. Thought all conversation was over. Her body relaxed and almost fluid like as the stress and strains of the night ebbed from her. He stroked her hair, rhythmically aiding her slumber.

"Come on I know you're waiting for me to say it." She uttered from the marshmallow pillow structure she was enveloped in. Her head just poking out and one eye squinted open looking at him.

He smiled, and he caught her giggle.

"Yeah you're right. I am." He snuggled next to her and placed a kiss is on the back of her head and he slotted her back to his front. "Go on then. Say it. For me?"

Chucking the words out she only just managed.

"Oh. Sounds dangerous James."

Her efforts were rewarded by a definite tickle across her hips. He tickled her with his long fingers, pining her down beneath him while she wriggled around helpless for respite. She squealed for mercy, and only once he stopped and she caught her breath, settling back down, did he continue.

"Well I've been thinking." He took in a huge breath. "Move in with me Molly? Please." He whispered suddenly into her ear.

It wasn't. Sudden though. It was something he'd wish to ask very early on. She brought something to his life that he knew he'd never be able to live without. Her clutter, her energy, altered his house back into a home. The nights she was there, with him he was happy. The few evenings they had spent apart he missed her. This wasn't just infatuation; this wasn't about being smitten with her. This was simply knowing that it was right, that she belonged with him.

He'd worried about asking though, worried it was too soon. All too aware of her frequently voiced need for independence, something she had hung onto over the years. He'd expected her to argue when he did ask. Was prepared for all her counter arguments, about it being too soon, not the right time for her. So, when the words did come out of his mouth. When he did eventually ask her, he was amazed by her silence. Scared a little too. Worried he'd pushed her too hard, but she didn't react.

She remained in his arms, silent. 

"Say something... please." He begged. "I know it's sudden, and you like your own place... it's just... I need you by my side. Now and for always."

He was too caught up in his anxiety at first to appreciate her little body gently moving next to his. When he did, he realised she was staring at him. Waiting for his little speech to be over.

"It is too soon Charles." She shook her head.

"No. No. It's not." He tried to joke. "It's 15 years too late."

"No." She pulled her lips in stopping herself from saying anymore. She'd already spoke too sharply to him. Hating the sick feeling she felt when she saw him looking so hurt. It physically caused her pain to look at him, the whipped puppy look that he did so well.

"Oh?" He paled, then manoeuvred himself away from her. Getting from the comfort of his bed. Walking over to the mini bar for fortifications. She was shocked to see him leave and then down the drink in one. Loudly appreciating the heat of the liquor.

"Go on then?" He turned and asked. But didn't look at her in the face, choosing instead appoint just behind her to focus on. "Why not?"

She untangled herself from the bed and walked over to him slowly, cautiously. She could see he was bristling with the rejection, and she understood, but this was too important to rush.

Pulling him down to sit next to her on the bed. He followed with no resistance and even gave a small smile when she did catch his eye.

"It's complicated." She started.

"Look your place well it's...more than I ever... plus, I could never afford to pay my way."

"I wouldn't expect you to." He started to say.

"Yeah? But I'd want to." She replied fiercely. Then calmly continued. "Look where I grew up. Where you grew up it was too different worlds. Girls like me don't get to live in houses like that. Well not unless I became a stripper or something." She joked.

"Yes, they do. Molly." He turned to her, saddened how she still had a degree of uncertainty about her brilliance, her worth. "You've as much right to live there as anyone." Kissing her hand, he joked. "Though I do like the sound of you becoming a stripper."

She chuckled with him. The happy Charles was returning.

"Look tomorrow. When we go to my Mum's for lunch you'll see. See where I grew up. Its noisy. Small and nothing like your family home. Million miles away mate."

"Molly. Hey." He pulled her into his arms. "It all down to luck, but I told you that before. Wherever you came from I don't care. None of that important to me."

"Yeah I know. I think." She nestled into him. "But I do, and it does. Maybe not to you, maybe not to me, but to others it may. Beside I'm frightened I'll break something that costs a bleeding fortune."

He laughed.

"Shit Molly I brought up Sam there. You know the clumpiest oaf about? Nothing in my house costs a fortune anymore, and I don't care about others. Just you."

"Yeah but it's dead nice, and my stuff...well it's all a bit shit really." She confessed. "It wouldn't look right."

"No, it's not. I love your stuff. I love your flat too." He answered.

"Yeah bet you do! Couldn't see you living there, though could you?" She smiled at him.

He pulled her from his chest and held her way from him by her arms. Staring into her face.

"Why not? If that's what you want. If it means I get to be with you as much as possible." He replied. "Then yes. I'd move in with you."

"Really? You'd move into my crappy one bed flat... for me?" She blinked back the tears. "Lumpy sofa and all?"

"I'd live in a fucking cardboard box if I had to." He said. "I just want to be with you."

She stretched up and kissed him. "Thank you." She quietly said.

"Is that a yes then?" He pressed on.

"It's a maybe. For now, can I just think about it please." She begged. "I need a bit more time I think."

"Yeah. Take as long as you like." He shuffled back up in to the bed pulling her with him. Settling under them under duvet again. "As long as the answer is eventually yes." He quietly said, having the last word as he reached over and turned the bedside lamp off, readying them again for sleep.

The drive the next day to her parent's wasn't too long, but long enough for Molly to coach him.

"Don't give your seat up for anyone once you've got one. You'll never get it back."

"Don't take too much of Mum's gravy. It's bloody awful."

"Ignore me Dad. If he's there. Sunday he's normally down the pub."

"Don't fall for Bella's stories and give her money."

"Don't ask to see any baby photos. There aren't any and it will cause a row. " 

Her list of preparedness about her family went on. Eventually he had to stop her.

"Dawes. Shut the fuck up." He burst out happily. "It will be fine. I'll be a good boy I promise."

"Its not you I'm worried about mate." She replied back as she bite a finger nail.

Then turning off the engine Charles pulled in to the estate car park, and pulled her hands in to his.

"Remember." He looked at her with seriousness. "What do I always say?"

"Yeah I know. Stay focused. Stay alert. Stay alive." She happily answered back.

"And?" He probed more.

"That you love me." She replied as though she was on parade.

"And?" He asked again with a touch more sternness.

"And that I love you. For always. No matter what." She smiled. "Thank you, Charles." Grateful for the pep talk he'd just given her.

She had been right though. To be worried. The estate was not what he was used to. The climb up to her parent's flats, her childhood home, was littered with hazards and bored looking youths. When they finally arrived on the walk way he knew he was close. He heard her family first before he saw them. It was noisy, as she said it would be, but not as small as he'd expected. It was however very busy, above and beyond what he'd ever experienced before outside the military. Her Mum's cooking was awful, her Dad was three sheets to the wind, and there seemed to be an open house policy of friends and neighbours who wanted to chat about last night's party. As well as they both suspected to catch another glimpse of Molly's new man.

Eventually though they made their escape. Have put in the necessary number of hours to still be considered as a good daughter. Her visiting duties discharge perfectly.

"Bleeding hell." She let out as soon as they got back to the car. "You ok?" She asked

"Wow." Was all he could say. Then watching her face crumple in questions, he continued. "That was something else Molly. Are you ok?"

He'd watched her all afternoon being bombarded with questions and financial requests from her siblings. He even heard her father ask for some money once too.

"Yeah. Though even for me that was intense. Forget how cramped it is when we are all home." She mused.

He started the car and began their journey home. Back to his for the night. After that, after her refusal not to move in with him he had no idea where they'd spend the next night or the one after that. It made him regretful, but reasoned as long as he was with her, he didn't mind.

She sat in quiet for a while, he too as he drove believing her to be dozing.

"It made me think though." She began suddenly. "Being there today like. Why I joined up in the first place."

"What to get away from sharing a room with Bella, only to find you had to share it with a load more of annoying squaddies instead?" He teased. "Bet that was a shock."

"No." She hit him playfully on the arm. "I joined up to make something of my life. Make it better." She said.

He briefly turned and smiled at her before he turned his attention back on the road.

"Well you certainly did that."

"I did. Didn't I?" She agreed. "That's why what I said before, it doesn't matter anymore."

"What's that?" He asked only half paying her attention.

"That I didn't deserve to live in a house like yours." She answered.

"Well you know my thoughts on that." He shot back.

"Yeah I do." She smiled then went quiet, but kept watching him. He turned his head once or twice as he drove but kept the silence, thinking she was deep in memories of her old life. Her face held an odd contented look that every now and then flipped in to an expectant look.

It was only when he got out of the car that she spoke again. As they made their way across his drive way.

"You know? I always had you pegged as a clever bloke."

He stopped and looked at her.

"Why? What makes you think I'm not?" He was puzzled pushing the front door open to let her in first.

"Cause here's me." She said as she kicked her shoes off as soon as they entered the hall. Stepping back into his arms as he helped her off with her coat. "Giving you all the chances, and you've taken none of them."

She spun round, reaching up on tiptoe and lacing her arms around him.

"Well that is unless you've changed your mind?"

He was cautious.

"Molly? Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Depends on what you think I'm saying. If you think I'm saying I could murder a cuppa. You'd be right. If you think that I'm also saying that I think we should live together... well you're also right."

No sooner had the words left her mouth he picked her up and twirled her around. Kissing her, only breaking apart to ask.

"You're serious?" Double checking his hopes.

"Yeah. Yes, I am and I'm also gonna be sick if you keep spinning me round." She burst out. "Put me down you bleeding Rupert."

He did just that.

"So where?" He asked as he pulled her quickly into him before she even considered moving away from him. "Here or yours?"

She peeked up at him then turned herself around in his arms. Cradled against his back as though she was reviewing his home.

"Here I reckon. Though I have to be honest though those stairs still give me the creeps."

"Perfect." He smacked a kiss onto her lips.

"Mind you. I'll pay my way... though I don't know how I'm going to afford it." She trailed off. "But I will. One way or the other."

He bent low and close, grabbing at her bum. Something he'd learnt from Aunty Mel. Squeezing it playfully hard to make her yelp.

"Tell you what Dawes, you can pay your share by stripping for me." He watched her react at this. "And I think I want to collect the first weeks rent right now."

And with that he swept her up in his arms and bounded up the scary stairs at an alarming pace. 


	10. Chapter 10

All Change

Chapter 10

"Get out." She screamed at him. "Just go Charles I don't want to hear it."

He backed away from her, watching the tears rolling down her face. Completely on the edge. She didn't want him. She didn't need him. She was pushing him away.

The move, Molly finally coming to live with him had been a complicated one. Her divorce proceeding turning unpleasant and it meant she had to hold on to her flat for a bit longer and prove occupancy. So, where before she'd almost been a permanent fixture at his home, she was now reduced to three, four times a week visits. Charles hated it. He supposed Molly had to, but it was necessary for Molly to walk away from her marriage with fewer complications.

If anything, though that time apart, that time of waiting it proved to both of them that more than anything they wanted to live together. The wait they thought wails make it all the sweeter when she did move in 

Finally, the day arrived. Her divorce settled, her old life left behind and the promise of a new one lying ahead. She brought very little with her, except clothes, a few ornaments and pictures, but that was all. The furniture left behind or donated to her siblings. At first, he questioned it, worried about her past words that she didn't think anything of her stuff would fit into his home, but she eased his doubts. Simply put there was nothing she wanted, nothing that meant anything for her apart from a set of chests of drawers that had been her beloved Nans, and was now Molly's pride and joy. So, when she did move in, this he ensured, had pride of place in their room. Odd against all the other furniture in there, but perfect because it meant she had arrived.

The actual move day was quick and easy. When the final box had been unpacked and dumped in one of the spare rooms for now, he'd expected her to be happy. Her flat cleaned and closed up. Keys returned to the estate agent, that part of her life over. Time for her to move on, but she didn't react as he'd expected.

It was only a week ago that she had unpacked and made his home their home. Only a week ago and despite a happy few days their joy at living together was fatally changing. For days now she's been stressed, emotional and keeping him at arm's length. He'd imagined cosy nights by the fire as the autumn nights drew in, romantic meals, relaxing bubble baths with each other. He was wrong, she hardly settled and spent every waking hour running through her lists.

Charles knew he was to blame. He knew the reason for this disharmony was totally his fault, but he hadn't expected such an extreme reaction as the one he got.

It was usual practice that the senior managers held annual dinner parties at one another's homes. Charles had always managed to avoid hosting one whenever he could, but this year, now he had Molly, someone he wanted to show off, he invited 12 of his work colleagues, with wives, for a gathering at his.

Molly had taken the news calmly at first, his offer to bring caterers in, as was usual practice for the wives, gratefully accepted, and then Rebecca popped around. A friendly visit, she really did like Molly and thankfully they got on. Molly admitted they would never be best friends, but they were friends at least. That was until innocently Rebecca mentioned that one year, during a good spell she had helped cater for one such social gathering to help Charles out. Molly listened calmly, but as soon as Rebecca left, she rounded on Charles. The door slammed shut with frightenly quiet force and then she began.

"You lied." She had accused him, she thought he'd always told her that he had help in for such dos. Pointing her finger into his chest playfully.

"Not once." He defended himself, rightly or wrongly slightly amused.

"Well you were fucking economical with the truth." A line she knew she'd used before. She giggled. "You know what this means though?"

"What?" He stood back and watched her raid a cupboard where he kept the cook books his mother had bought him over the years.

"War! Bloody war." Her voice muffled as she buried deeper into the cupboard. "I might just gonna have to do all the bloody cooking me self."

It started off a fun. She was happy. Something she was keen to do, but soon it went downhill when she saw the enormity of the task, but there was no going back. The offer of caterers flatly refused. Molly was proud, and was going to do all this on her own.

He knew why she was doing this. She had wanted to make Charles proud of her, and he loved her for that, but if he was honest all she was doing at the moment was making him lonely. She was like a woman processed, with lists, sauces, flat wear, constantly on her mind and the stress was showing. 

It was now the morning of the gathering. He followed the instructions she'd wrote out for him. Performed the numerous tasks expected, and had merely poked his head around the kitchen door to offer more support when he received the barrage of abuse and tears. The pressure was getting to her.

"Molly. Please." He begged through the closed door. He hated not being able to help.

She yanked it open. Hair wild, face stained with various mixtures.

"Shit Charles. I think I've fucked up." She sobbed out.

He pulled her in for a tight hug and despite his best efforts a small laugh rolled out of his body.

"It's not funny." She moaned but laughter was happening in her too. "I've burnt the bloody hollandaise sauce again. Fourth fucking time this morning."

Charles couldn't contain it anymore. He looked around his usually pristine large kitchen what was now in total disarray, with questionable smells permeating around it, he burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry Molly." He gulped out in between laughter. "I'm sorry."

She joined him, laughing too, unable to resist a happy Charles.

"Come on." He eventually said. "Let me help." And so, he did.

A bit of calm. His previous military training helped. A lot of organisation and soon they were back on track. Working together, happily like the perfect team. His skills mainly involved washing up and chopping, but it made things more organised, more manageable. A smile started to return to her face, happy talk replaced angry stressed words.

They bantered with each other as they moved around the kitchen. Laughed and joked. It felt for the first time in a long week that they both were relaxed. Charles even got away with putting some music on that was tolerable to them both, and the hours passed quickly. 

"Sorry I've been a bit of a cow this week." She said appreciating his help and feeling the guilt.

"Sorry I sprung 30 guests on you this week, of all weeks." He replied. Sheepishly looking at her. Knowing that at some stage he had to admit out loud he'd expected too much too soon.

"Yeah well you owe me big time mate." She smiled at him." And I intend for you to deliver!"

He blushed almost when he saw the loaded look on her face. Almost, but the swell of desire he felt for her toned it down.

The dinner party, it's planning, it's organising had been all consuming and Molly hadn't been in the mood to share herself with him for days. For a man who had gone without sex for years it shouldn't have been a problem, but it was. Neither of them could usually get enough of each other, and the few days without felt like a life time to him. His body ached being so close, yet so far from her. He dared but hope.

He swallowed heavily, feeling the heat of her gaze, and taking a moment to look around the kitchen. There were changes, now clean visible surfaces. Pans and plates stacked ready for the dishwasher's next load. Prepared food and plates all chilling in fridges. They were bang on time, with some to spare. And so, he had but one thought.

"Molly?" He said as he turned back to move towards her.

He was too late. She had already moved close to him and threw her arms around him.

"Molly." He tried again. "Are we on time? Have we done everything?" Hoping he'd assessed the situation right.

She tipped her head to one side, and considered her answer.

"Yes, Charles we're on time. Nothing left to do for now." She smiled then ran her finger across his lips as it turned into a grin. "Wait...you haven't done everything yet." She considered.

"Oh?" He sounded disappointed. He'd obviously misunderstood. Had hoped for something more than food prep. "What's left for me to do?" He turned his head to look around.

She gently pulled it back. Smiling at him. Capturing his lips.

"Me!" She smiled rakishly at him. "You've a promise to keep, a debt to pay." She pulled away.

Turning as she took him by the hand leading them to the stairs, she continued.

"And I intend to have it cashed in right now Bossman. This very minute." And she pulled him fast up the stairs to their bedroom. Where they fell into each other and Charles filled his debt. Twice.

He'd always thought she was beautiful. No matter what. He'd always been proud of her, from the first time she proved herself to him by saving Smurf's life, if not before that. He'd always know she was exceptional, and since she'd come back into his life, he knew that he was so lucky to have her. But all those feelings increased tenfold when he saw her walking down the stairs later that night. Just in the nick of time for their guests arriving.

She took his breath away. She'd told him she'd bought something new for the night. Something she had wanted to keep a secret from him. To surprise him she said. She did more than that. The sight of her made his eyes gloss over, and his heart pledge itself to her, for always, no matter what, from that moment onwards.

"Do I look alright?" She asked. Concerned by his lack of compliments as she met him on the bottom step.

Spreading her hands up and down the dress nervously, hoping she hadn't got it wrong.

"You look..." He shook his head. "I can't explain. Stunning. I think, but it doesn't come close."

She smiled a true smile of relief.

"Really?

"Really. Molly." He pecked a gentleman type kiss on to her cheek. "Exquisite."

Under his praise and admiring eye she felt a success. She'd gone all out. Had played to her strengths, knowing the night was going to be something that pushed her out of her comfort zone. Not imagining that Charles' work colleagues were the type of people she'd usually mix with. So, she dressed for her, for confidence, and for her man, so he'd be proud of her. His reaction showed she'd hit it just right.

He took her hands and moved her to do a small spin in front of him to show off her outfit. A tight fitted short sleeved black dress that flared out into an exaggerated A line skirt. Her hair hung brightly and softly down her back with a few curls added to it.

Yet as beautiful as she was it was her lips and her eyes that transfixed him. Usually she wore her make up light, tonight however she had made her eyes even more expressive with powder, and her lips were painted red. He was transfixed at the beauty in front of him. Watching every movement of her glossy full lips. His body started to respond to the images of those lips clamped playfully around him.

The night, her hosting, the friendliness of it all went well. Compliments, and congratulations the main topic of the night. Relaxed and fun. Molly mingled well and settled in with ease amongst his work colleagues, as he knew she would. Confident in herself and focused on her role as a host. Yet through it all, though on the outside Charles was relaxed and attentive to his guests, his mind and his eyes were so often to be found straying to Molly.

Tonight, he seemed to be transfixed by her. Noticing the way she moved, how her eyes danced when she laughed, and most appealing of all how her blood red lips moved when she talked, smiled and teased him whenever she caught him looking. Only too often when she caught his dark loaded stare at her would she take her teeth across her lower lip to captivate him more. She knew the game she was playing with him, and he was all too willing to join in.

"Shit. Molly. You've got me like a bloody teenage boy." He growled out nibbling on her neck while his hand roamed across her backside.

She giggled and pressed herself onto him more.

He had been unable to take it any longer. His primeval desire for him stopping any sensible thoughts or conversation. She was a total and utter distraction to him, and he wanted her. Needed her.

He took his chance. Excusing himself from the group he was chatting to, watching her leave the front room, telling their guests he was off for more supplies. He knew she wanted him to follow. No words were said she merely smiled a crooked smiled then playfully ran her tongue to moisten her lips, fully aware of her effects on him that night.

He stepped out too after a polite gap, not making it too obvious he was following her. Yet he was, and catching up with her in the utility room, safely away from their guests, he pounced. She hungrily accepted his ravishing too, his presence to night having effects in her as well. Feeling the electricity between them as they both circulated, distancing themselves from any chance of contact.

After moment of kissing, pressing themselves against each other, and bringing their burning needs to the surface, she broke away.

"Charles. We can't." She reluctantly reasoned. "We've a house full of guests."

"Shit. Molly. I can't not." He ashamedly looked down at the front of his tented trousers. "You're driving me fucking wild."

He started to dive right back in to claiming her. His hand bunching up the fabric of her dress, stalling as he felt the tops of her hold up.

"Christ Molly." He groaned low and painfully.

No more could be said. No more was said. She was powerless to say no, too caught up in her equal desire for him. She allowed herself to be lifted up against the unit, her clothes to be savagely rearranged. Spurring him on each step of the way with her touches, moans, encouragement. They moved together quickly, animalistically, in a frenzy to quench their needs and reach the satisfaction they so craved. They both came fast and hard. Both totally spent, as his damp head rested on her shoulder, taking in lung full of breaths. Her dress dishevelled, his trouser bunched around his ankles. None of it mattered, neither of them noticed, too engrossed in coming down from the paradise they just visited moments ago.

It was doubtful just how long they would have stayed there, clinging on to each other, lost in their love. But reality intruded, sounds of a glass falling and calling of their names saw them break away. Both flushed, both with a trace of embarrassment, and both equally aware that they needed not to be discovered.

Charles helped her down. Straighten her up, and once dressed himself went off to assist his guests and the clear up. While Molly popped up stairs to freshen up. Their tryst still the secret it should be, their desire satiated for now, their guests once again becoming their priorities. And so, the rest if the evening passed, with only the odd embarrassed look passing between them.

The weeks went by, both adjusting to living with someone again. Both learning new things about each other. Rarely out of each other's company. Driving to and from work together, spending all their free time together, the only break they had were on the nights Charles still attended the reservist training. In the beginning these two needed to spend ever walking moment with one another, but things were changing. The intensity of the relationship heavy.

The bubble of happiness, the rose-tinted view of their new lives together changing. Little things started to bother him. Her general mess around the home, her noise in the morning, the numerous TV programmes she religiously watched. All small minor issues but all ones that he felt keenly because they were never apart, and because he hadn't shared his life for such a long time.

He could see that she was struggling too. That little things about him annoying her too. He quite often noticed the relief in her voice if he called to say he'd be leaving the office late, or if he had an early morning meeting and set off without her. He saw her constantly fiddling with her phone, answering emails late into the night, sitting turned away from him where they used to cuddle. Often not coming up to bed with him, slipping in between the sheets once she thought he'd fallen asleep. Little things, but Charles noticed them acutely.

He worried. His relationship with Rebecca failed, it had been based purely on sex and he'd been fundamentally selfish with his plans. He worried if it was the same with him and Molly. Acknowledging the physical side, a temptation they both struggled to resist. Their love making at times explosive, but he hoped they had something more... a connection... true love. He believed they'd had more than what he'd had with Rebecca.

As the weeks rolled into months he stared to doubt. She never said. Always had a happy smile on her face. Still told him she loved him, but there was a change. She snapped whereas before she used to giggle. She stared silently, lost in her own world more often, when before, in early day, she'd never shut up. He watched as she grabbed chances for them to have time apart like never before, previously hating to be away from him, now keen and eager when they were. Small changes but ones that hurt him none the less.

She was clearing up after their take away. Neither of them in the mood to cook. The silly fun they used to have in the kitchen making meals not such a frequent occurrence now. She paid strict attention to her task, making sure that everything went away as he liked it. Gone were the evenings she'd hum while doing her task, with him hindering her with affection rather than helping.

He stood with his bum perched on the worktop, back straight, arms folded, head down. He was certain she still loved him, but there was something. Worried he'd pushed her for too much too soon and because of that he was losing her.

"You're not happy are you Molly?" He asked.

She spun around and let a small gasp out. Caught totally out by his question, intensely looking at him. He saw the false mask drop over her face and that she was about to deny it.

"The truth Molly. Please." He begged.

She put the cloth down she was holding and turned and mirrored his positions. Only the other side of the kitchen.

"No." She answered quietly. "It's all gone a bit shit." Her head hung low by the confession.

He turned his head away from her, focused on an imaginary spot. Trying to block out the sad thoughts of how his life would be like without Molly in it. How he'd failed to hold on to her love... for always. He readied himself for the heart break that ensued.

He couldn't believe that this was happening to him, to them. Theirs's was a love story that's only ever written about. She was as much as part of him, past and present. Or so he thought.

"I knew." Was all he managed to say.

There was a heavy mournful silence in the room. Neither wanting to break it. To break them, but maybe he thought they were already broken.

"So?" He finally asked. "What do you want to do? Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

"Change my mind?" She asked. "What do you mean change my mind?"

"Well." He hated having to spell it out to her. To be the one to say the words. "You're not happy. Do you want to end this? Break up?" He closed his eyes as he spoke the last words.

With that she flew at him across the kitchen. Rushed up to him and demanded access to him by moving his arms so they held her. Causing his eyes to flash open.

"Shit! Charles is that what you want?" She demanded as she looked at him intensely.

"No. Hell no Molly. I just want you to be happy... and you're not." He spat back with a bit too much force.

"I am... with us... but it's hard..." She dragged him over to the sofa.

He sat down on it heavily and watched her sit close to him. He had no idea what her thoughts were.

"We need to talk." She simply said.

"Yeah?"

"So, are you happy?" She asked. "With us? Do you still love me?"

"Oh God Molly of course I do. More than anything and that's what it hurts to see you unhappy."

"I love you too you muppet." She smiled her special smile at him. "It's just it's all a bit... "She watched his face light up in a question. "I'm drowning that's all."

She continued fast as the pain of her words inflicted echoed across his face.

"Used to my own space. My own routine. I'm a night owl. You're a lark. I like music in the morning. You like debate. I hate going out to work so early, there nothing for me to do. You love it."

He smiled a sad smile. "We can change that." He said. "Why didn't you say?"

"Really? Thought I'd hurt you if I wanted some space."

"No. Again I just want to make you happy." He replied. "And would it?"

"Well yes... used to a bit of me own space you see...Pete and me... well we hardly ever saw each other. The odd night." She saw the panic. "No that's not what I want for us. I want to be with you as much as I can, I just need some me time too."

He saw she wasn't finished, and let her speak. She hesitated, bit her fingernails. Her uncertainty palpable

"Thing is Charles it not just that... It's work too. I think I'm messing up there too."

"Work? What wrong?" He asked surprised.

"I'm falling behind. I mean really behind." She confessed. "Had a few bollockings actually."

"Why? What happened."

She looked at him and leaned into him.

"Look there isn't an easy way to say this...It cause of you... of us."

"Me?" He let out a surprised noise. Them recovered. "Go on Molly."

"I usually go in late. See my students, they work later, so do I. I get a lot done, then I come home and work. I mean I used to do a lot of marking at home. Well with us, the intensity of it all, I kind of haven't put in the effort as much. It's being noticed."

"Why?" He leaned back and stroked her hair.

"We're never apart. Are we? We're with each other all the time. Well... I would feel a bit of a shit to abandon you to go off hours at an end and mark." She truthfully replied. Then added. "Plus, I'd probably miss you too "

"And is that it? That's what making you unhappy." He asked.

She didn't snap back.

"Yeah. Work means a lot... a real lot...you do too... but I hate being behind... not being on top... but I don't want to piss you off either. I love you. It's just I'm struggling to get the balance right." She smiled woefully. "It's doing me nut I'm if I'm honest."

He started to laugh.

"We are a right pair Dawes." She peeked up at him. "I'm a bit behind myself." He explained. "Well quite a bit. Just being the boss there's no one bollocking me."

She grinned.

"You're kidding?"

"No, I usually spend an hour or so each night in my office catching up. The reason I've been going in so early is that I've a lot to catch up on. Didn't want to do it at home. Thought I'd piss you off." He smiled at her.

"We're both muppets then." She said. "But I meant it, you do make me happy., and I do love you. It's just getting the bleeding balance right between you and work. That's all I need to sort out."

"I have a solution Dawes." He offered as he pulled her into his lap.

"I'll go into work when I want to. You drive into work when you want to. Two separate career lives. We'll make a space in the office for you to do your work in every night, or somewhere else if you want. We'll make time for us, but also do the jobs we're bloody good as well too."

"You always were the clever one, weren't you?" She smiled back at him

"No. Just very much in love with you Molly, and I don't want either of us to fuck this up because of miscommunication." He rested his chin on her head and pulled her in tighter. "You're my world."

"You're pretty much mine too." She sighed back. Then pulling away from him she began. "Could we start now?"

"What?" He asked puzzled.

"Sort your office out?" She replied. "I've shit load of portfolios I need to assess. Wouldn't mind getting started. Keep the boss off my back."

He stood, still holding her.

"No problem Molly."

She slowly slid down him. Standing smiling in front of him. Reaching up on tip toes and planting a sweet short kiss on his lips. And then pulling his hand dragged him to his office.

"Let's see what we can do."


	11. Chapter 11

All Change

Chapter 11

"Molly is that you?" He shouted from his office, only too happy of the distraction. He stretched himself and ran his hand over his head which was once again aching.

An unexpected day working from home and the hours had passed by quickly. He'd become absorbed as he always did. He knew she'd be home soon but she'd closed the door so gently that he doubted what he'd heard at first. Usually she slammed the door with the force of a ten year old having a paddy, yet despite the house shaking as she did, it always brought a huge smile to his face. It simply meant; Molly was home.

"Yeah. Who else were you expecting?" She replied as she threw off her shoes in the hallway.

He grinned hearing her reply as he left his office and noticed she'd picked up her shoes from where she'd scattered them, and had put them away in the shoe cupboard. She'd learnt very early on that Charles was a neat freak, and she wasn't, and the easiest way to keep everyone happy was for her to just simply put her shoes away.

"Well." He said moving in to kiss her and to help her off with her coat. "I was expecting that stripper I asked to move in with me six months ago, but she hasn't tuned up...so you'll do."

She raised her eyes at him.

"Watch it mate." She kissed him back. Then noticing his hand run over his face. "Bad head again?"

"Yeah." He nodded. Changing the subject. Wanting to focus on her. "Good day?"

Since their talk months ago, the laying out of their boundaries, their lives had become so much easier. Simply they each understood one another better. They were together as much as they possibly could be, but always prioritised their work commitments, and even their friends when they needed to. They rubbed along together well, perfectly in fact. Together when they wanted and needed to be, apart when they had to be. Both had numerous times admitted they had never been happier. It felt to Molly as though this was her first grown up relationship. It felt to Charles that this was his first ever relationship.

So now noting the look on her face Charles was slightly concerned. Especially when, instead of reaching for the kettle he watched how Molly reached for the wine and two glasses. Holding them up in a silent offer to him.

"You ok?" He asked, moving slowly into the kitchen. Wary.

"Yeah... why shouldn't I be?" Her stock automatic answer, ingrained in her from times of old. She then paused and gave an apologetic grin. He knew her too well, the first man who ever had, and she loved that and she knew that answer just didn't cut it anymore. He always wanted more, and she always wanted to give more. "No, I'm not... sorry."

He walked over to her and gave her a tight hug. "Come on let's sit, and talk. What's up?"

"They offered me the promotion I was after." She blurted out before she'd even sat down.

He jumped up from his sitting position, and hugged her again. "That's brilliant Molly." Then looked at her curiously. "Isn't it?"

The simple fact of it was that it was brilliant. This promotion. This progression, was something that she had been chasing for a while. Trying to prove herself in everyone's eyes, that she could do it. To prove that she wasn't the Molly Dawes of years gone by. Proving to everyone else that was, apart from him, as she knew he already believed in her no matter what.

"It's in Nottingham." Was all she simply and sadly said.

"Nottingham? Shit." He was floored. Going from a very good high to a very low low. Thinking about all they had been through to get here. To building a new life together and now suddenly Nottingham was in the cards. A threat to them.

She didn't need to ask him what he was thinking. She knew. His face showing all the emotions she too felt.

"I know. Sorry." She gave him a weak grin and a tight hug.

"You've nothing to be sorry about." He said as he pull away and poured them two large glasses of the chilled white. Headache be dammed. "Unless you asked to be so far away?" He raised his eyebrows in a question.

Shaking her head, she continued.

"What we gonna do?" She asked. Hopeful he'd have the answer.

"Well..." He said pulling her to sit next to him on the comfy chair, shoulders just touching. "I guess we start by whether you're going to say 'yes' and then we go from there."

She looked at him like a crazy person.

"You think I should go, don't you?"

"I think it's something you've worked hard for. I think if you want it you should take it." He took a huge swig of his wine. "But it's your choice."

"Thanks." She said glumly.

"When do they need to know by?" He asked stroking small lines up and down her back. Something she usually loved. Something that used to make her almost fluid like under his caress, but not today. Too anxious, too wound up about her offer.

"End of tomorrow." She looked at him. "Not much time. Is there?"

"I don't think you have a choice." He softly replied.

"You don't want me to stay here, with you?" She was shocked at how easy he was letting her go. "What about us?"

"I want you to be brilliant, and this is an exciting adventure for you, a journey. I won't stop you." He moved an arm around her shoulders. "And as for us. Well I guess we'll cope. It will be different, but ultimately it will be fine. There's always weekends."

She looked up and saw the smile. Heard the words of encouragement he offered and she couldn't love him anymore than she did. Here he was willing to give up on their plans for her dreams. No one had ever done that for her before.

The opportunity was one she'd wanted for so long, her chance, and it should have made her happy. Yet it didn't, but she also knew passing it up would have upset her too. So, they spent the evening going backwards and forwards over her decision. Not once though did Charles turn away from the line that she should take it. Not once did he offer her anything but the option that she should go, and they would make it work. And so the next morning came too early and they both rose with slightly heavy hearts, knowing today was the day she had to give her decision.

She agreed with Charles, she had to take the job, and so she did. Very quickly they found themselves driving up and down the country scoping out the city that was to be her new home. Charles was with her every step of the way and within a matter of weeks they had found her a small bed sit to live in Mondays to Thursdays. It was cosy and cute, and they filled it with nice stuff, but it still made them sad as they knew it would be hers, not theirs.

The separation was to be hard for them both, and so Molly tried to make steps to mitigate it as best she could. She bravely bargained with her boss, and requested to work from home every Friday. Seeing it as small win in an otherwise rubbish situation. Allowing her to return home every weekend to spend with Charles, the Friday through to the Monday morning. It wasn't nearly enough for either of them, but that was all that they had. Her move out for the working week marked a point in their relationship, a significant event, they were both just unsure how or in what way.

Once again Charles found his home lonely and empty. Living his life in the office as much as he could to stop him from going home to where there were constant reminders of her absence. They kept in constant touch via phone, text, email, but they still missed each other and the weekends couldn't come fast enough for either of them. Both feeling lonely apart.

He knew he loved her. He knew he depended on her, but it surprised him just how much he needed her to be physically there by his side. How the feel of her hand in his made him a stronger man in every sense. He sadly noticed changes in her life that he wasn't part of. New friends, new work colleagues that she told tales about. People that he hadn't met, or hadn't been offered to meet. She had a whole separate life, apart from him. One he knew so little about and it scared him.

"Thought I'd find you out here." Rebecca said as she sat down next to him on the garden bench.

Once again it was his birthday weekend and his parents had insisted that he and Molly visit for a birthday meal. Sam of course was present and as it had been tradition for the past many years, Rebecca was there too. It was all just another reminder that time was passing Charles by.

"Just wanted a bit of time out." Charles said. "You know. To think."

The sound of the laughter and glasses being clinked together drifting from the house caused a smile to spread across his face.

"You ok?" She gently rested her hand on his arm. "You look a bit...?" She stopped knowing Charles wouldn't talk if he didn't want to.

"Yeah. I'm ok." He replied. The sound of Molly's voice filled the summer air. He smiled only guessing what type of riotous tale she was tell his adoring parents.

"I've got these now." He twirled his new reading glasses around in his fingers. "Another step towards middle age." He scoffed. The reasons for his recurring headaches now fully explained.

"Comes to us all." She replied watching him slip into deep thought. 

"How's Molly? She looks well. The new job, is she enjoying it?" She asked hopeful to get him to talk more. They had confided in each over the years, sometimes the only friends they truly had were each other.

He grinned at the mere mention of her name. Rebecca knew just how in love this man was.

"She's good. It's good." He said. "She loves it. Doing well. Knew she would." He sighed. "It's just hard. I miss her."

"I bet you do." She replied. "I know how you feel. It's hard being the one left behind" Rebecca said softer and smiled as she turned to look at Charles, who passed a semi guilty look across his face at her admission.

She then asked.

"She's your one, isn't she?"

He chuckled at the memory it stirred. Years ago, at the beginning they had talked about finding 'the one'. One drunken night, one very honest conversation.

Charles had always been sceptical. Never believing there was such a thing. Over the years Rebecca had thought she had several times, found the one for her, only to be disappointed, again and again, and she too started to feel doubtful about it all.

Then Charles met Molly, and he had no doubts any more. He surprised her one day telling her that she was right. That there was such a thing, and then sadly confessed that he had found his, but had lost her. Never he feared to be found again. So Rebecca, sitting there asking if Molly was 'the one' all Charles could do was agree, nodding his head without sound.

It took her a merely a moment to recover. A small slither of jealousy cutting her hearts at hearing his words, but at last fully understanding it all. The guilt, the realisation that it was because of her that he almost lost his 'one' forever.

"So why her?" Rebecca continued. "I know we never had what you and she have. I see that. So why Molly?" Her determination to right the wrong over riding her pang of jealousy.

He sunk his head back onto the garden chair, closing his eyes, remembering everything that was Molly.

"I don't honestly know. I just know that I've never loved anyone like I've loved her." He opened his eyes looking at Rebecca. Hoping he hadn't offended her, then going on. "She's kind, funny, messy, beautiful and handful at times...all the usual." He continued. "And she makes me see things different. Did from day one. She has taught me to look at the world different. Look at the small things before you can fix the big." He sighed. "She's somehow all I've ever wanted or needed."

His honesty startled her. She'd never heard him talk so frankly. It could have been so easy for his declaration to continue to hurt Rebeca but, to her relief, it didn't. Thankfully her history with Charles was now just a friendship, and the care of son they shared. He had seen her in too weakened a state for them to be anything more.

Their ability to get along so well founded on the certain belief neither had any feelings other than friendship.

"So?" Rebecca asked. "What you going to do about it?" 

"About what?" He asked confused.

"Don't be dim Charles." She laughed. "About Molly." She replied exasperated. "I mean she's already moved in with you. You waited for years to be with her. So, are you?"

"Oh! Oh?" He understood completely. "Yeah." He admitted with a huge smile. "I want to. Realty want it. Want it all. Even want kids with her. At my age...It's just..."

"Just what Charles." She burst in. "What?"

"Well her job. Timing's all wrong." He winced. "She's still young. I don't even know if she still wants kids... or wants them with me."

"Bloody hell." Rebecca whispered under her breath. "Charles." She said more loudly. "You need to wise up and start working out what you want and what she wants. Ever thought about asking her?"

"I know." He stood up and offered his hand to help Rebecca up. "You're right. Just frightened to rock the boat I guess."

"Charles from what I see. That woman in there." She nodded her head to where Molly and Sam's laughter continued. "Loves you and there's no boat to rock." 

He smiled gratefully at her and turned and walked away from her. Back to the party, back to Molly's side. She saw him first.

"There you are." She beamed at him. "Thought we'd lost you." Then catching sight of Rebecca she added as neutrally as she could. "Oh I didn't know you were out here too."

Charles grinned ever so slightly catching the jealous look Molly was so desperately trying to hide. He knew deep down she didn't feel threatened by Rebecca, but sometimes the old Molly reared its head slightly. Tonight was one of those times, and Charles loved it. He watched Molly almost innocently walk over to him and claim him, stepping up and kissing his smiling lips. Staking her claim, something Charles delighted in, knowing that he was hers and only hers to claim.

He threw his arm around her shoulder, confirming his love for only her, and then walked into the house without another word. Rebecca just silently watched them go, wisely choosing to let them go on first, without her, together. 

The party continued. Molly rarely leaving his side, as much as he rarely left hers. He knew what he wanted, but the fear that his dreams may no longer be the same as hers had stopped him from moving their relationship on. He'd been mindful of the age difference. Mindful that her career was finally where she had wanted it to be. So he'd stalled. Yet now, after Rebecca's wise words, and sitting back and watching her that afternoon he knew they'd waited long enough, and he had to take a chance on their future together.

"You're quiet." Molly said as they drove back home the next day.

"Am I?" He turned to her briefly and held her hand. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"Sounds..." She started.

"Watch it Dawes." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed them. Interrupting the famous line. She giggled at the sensation.

"It tickles." She explained to his questioning look.

"You don't like it?" His hand self-consciously flew to his early staged moustache he'd decided to grow. He'd spent most of his weekend being teased by Sam and parents over his upper lip hair, and he was feeling more than sensitive about it.

"No. I do. Like it I mean." She stoked his chin as she watched him refocus on the road. "It just takes a bit getting used to. That's all."

"I'll shave it off if you want." He replied. "It was just an experiment."

"Why did you do it?" She asked. The upper lip hair surprised her on her return home one day. The early signs he was cultivating something on his face.

At first, she hadn't asked why, just commented happily on it. Thinking it might have been a lazy decision one weekend not to shave that had continued. But now weeks on and a fine specimen was developing, she needed to know why.

"What grow it?" He asked. "Don't know." He lied.

He knew perfectly well why. He was feeling his age. The insult of needing glasses coming close to him failing his first time PT assessment for the Reservists scaring him. Both bits of information he hadn't wanted to share with her. Was worried she'd start looking at him differently. No longer the young soldier she'd fell in love with. Now middle aged and boring. She deserved more.

However those type of thoughts were far from her mind. She looked at him thoughtfully and with a touch of pride. She loved this man in front of her, regardless. Growing a fine moustache wasn't a problem for him, she knew that. He was a man who needed to shave daily, if not more frequently. Many times she'd sent him off to the en suite amid an amorous session to drag a razor over his chin. Not wanting her face to look or feel raw and sore the next day, and to his credit he always did. So the sacrificing of his tash, if he did, wasn't going to be hard to do. She knew he'd be able to grow another one just as quick.

"Sorry. You hate it, don't you." He sighed at her silence. "Consider it gone." 

"Nah." She smiled. "Keep it for now. As I said it tickles... it's can be very very nice...you know in certain situations." She smiled wickedly at him.

Watching him understand what she meant and he offered a wicked chuckle in response.

"Please keep it. For now. I've never had a boyfriend before with a tash." She added. "It's different. Feels very...mmmm... intense." Then blushed almost scarlet at her confession.

He saw and enjoyed her admission. He felt ten feet bloody tall, and stroke his upper lip in anticipation. Midlife crisis be dammed. The tash for now was staying.

They both continued on in silence. Both aware that tiny sparks of desire had now been lit by her declaration and the car almost on its own accord speeded up. Their hands and fingers dancing around each other's, starting the performance of expressing their love that was only going to culminate in their bedroom. Both feeling it intently their need to get home to spend the last few precious hours with each other before her return back to Nottingham.

He drove on, the miles passed. A contented peace settled in the car. It suited Charles that Molly no longer wanted to talk, instead he watched her nod off as they drove, his hand still firmly clasped in hers. She slept, and he thought.

He had a lot preying on his mind, and quiet time was good time. His conversation with his mother, away from Molly's hearing, spinning madly around in his head. The secretive, but happy visit he had with her into her dressing room, and the acceptance of a ring, that had belonged to his grandmother, playing on a constant loop. He'd gratefully took it, knowing unlike with Rebecca, something old, treasured, would mean the world to Molly, and so he took ownership of the family jewel, on her behalf, for now. Now it nestled in his jeans pocket, as he formulated a plan for its resetting and resizing. A plan that one day soon he'd share with Molly.

She missed him like crazy when they were apart, but loved her job. It was a hard way of living. Spending large amounts of her week so engrossed in what she was doing, it was only when she stopped did the pang of missing him seep in. This new role was consuming, more instructing and assessing, where her talents lay, and less chasing paper around an office, where her talents certainly didn't. Her life away from him during the working week rewarding, all encompassing, and most of the time worth the sacrifice. She'd hoped for no more.

Her dreams had now changed. Willing to accept she had the man she loved in her life, and all others, hopes, desires for them to have something else to love, someone else to love, pushed deep deep down. He'd never, not once, mentioned kids to her. She guessed he thought he was too old, that he'd been there and done that part of his life. Not wanting to repeat it. He'd never asked, or talked about how she felt about them anymore. Since he'd never asked, so she had never offered. Expecting him to know what was still truly in her heart. Expecting him to remember what she'd confessed to him while she was still with Pete: her desires to have kids, and she'd never since then said anything to the contrary.

She drove home excitedly, as she always did. Every Thursday night's drive home filled her with excitement, excitement at seeing her man again after the days of separation, but this Thursday night she was especially excited. This weekend was her birthday weekend. He'd been secretive and had planned a surprise, just the two of them, as well as a night celebrating with a group of her closest friends. She knew she was going to be totally spoilt, and unashamedly looked forward to it.

Her friends, that were now his friends, were helping her celebrate. They had thankfully all taken to Charles well, her true friends always knowing Pete was just temporary in her life, even if Molly hadn't. So, when Charles, a former Captain in the British Army, tall, handsome and charming, with the best smile imaginable was introduced to her group of giggling friends, they mopped him up.

As she drove, she smiled at how embarrassed he had been the first time he had met her slightly drunk girlfriends. Their obvious delight in his manners, and looks made him very uncomfortable. Yet now he'd played them perfectly, and they, just like Molly adored him. Making her closest friends and their husbands a frequent group they both happily socialised with.

This weekend was no exception. Her 38th birthday, a fancy restaurant, and overnight stay somewhere Charles had planned, and best of all both Friday and Monday off to share with the man of her dreams.

The excitement made her press her foot down harder on the accelerator. There was just too much to look forward to. She tried to dampen it down, but failed, she was certain this weekend was going to be one she'd remembered for the rest of her life. Over the past weeks his behaviour at times had been slightly more nervous than she'd ever known. Small hints he'd dropped into the conversation made her start wondering. His plans for this weekend illusive, all pointing to, in her eyes at least, to a certain question about to be asked, and even though it was early days she knew she was certain she'd say yes.

She burst through the door of their home, more excited by the minute. Slinging her keys down and rushing to the kitchen as she then heard soft music floating from it. He was home early. Just like he promised her he would be.

He turned and looked at her as soon as she burst through. Striding over to her and grabbing her almost fiercely. The pan he was stirring abandoned. His smile was huge. His hug was tight. His lips desperate as they crashed into hers.

"Sometimes I don't know how I keep my hands off you." She breath out as he held her.

"Ditto." He replied then kissed her again. "Fuck I've missed you Dawes." He eventually hissed out.

"Me too." And she recaptured his lips. "So, fucking much."

Most Thursday night's home coming started this way. Each greeting each other with gay abandonment. However tonight this one, for her special weekend, seemed just that little bit more electric. More special. They reacquainted themselves with each other's body, touching, holding, teasing.

"So is the birthday girl a bit excited?" He asked laughing as he reluctantly released her and went back to his stirring.

"You bet." She moved with him to the hob. Inspecting the master piece he was creating. "Everything sorted?"

"Mmmmm." He replied, nodding, not letting on what her surprise was. Knowing full well she was wanting to trick him into telling her.

She stood behind him and moved her arms around him and started to stroke his stomach, lazily moving her hand further and further south as she did.

"Oh good." She breathed into his shoulder, noting the reaction she was gaining from him.

He let out a groan, and tipped his head back as she undid one, then two of his jean's buttons. Her hand slipping around the elastic of his pants.

"Molly!" He warned. Then snapped his hand on her wrist to stop her. Amused at her surprised look. "You're not going to get me to tell you." He laughed. "It's a surprise.

He wanted it to be perfect. Tempted though he was to tell her. The truth be told he was bursting to tell her. Their evening out tomorrow with friends, was only kicking off the birthday festivities he had planned. It was to be followed up by two nights away in a luxury staffed cottage in the South Downs. No expense spared. Pure luxury. He knew it would blow Molly away, but she'd love it. He wanted it to be everything to her. He wanted to be everything to her, and this weekend he was finally going to make that happen and ask her to marry him.

He kissed her nose as a consolation measure, and she grinned cheekily back. She pulled away from him and he could see she was about to tease him more when his mobile rang.

He held up a finger and he went to answer it, just before pinching a kiss on her pouting lips. Then he walked off into another room.

Work telephone calls were sadly something she'd got used to in the early days and though curious, never really resented them. He gave her enough of his attention when he could, and so she accepted they were just part of Charles and his job. The job that allowed him to have such a good life style, the life style she now shared with him. So ultimately, she couldn't complain. She instead played with the unidentified sauce in the pan he'd been working on until he came back.

She didn't have to wait long. He walked briskly back into the room.

"That was Rebecca." He said. She noticed he looked shaken. "Her Mum has died."

"Oh no." Molly offered. Though not best friends she genuinely liked Rebecca and so felt instant sympathy with her.

"She's a mess." He went on walking around the kitchen running his hands through his hair. A sure sign of his agitation. "She found her. She'd fallen in the back garden and Rebecca found her. No one knows how long she'd been there." His voice slightly broke with the emotion of it all.

"Shit." Was all Molly said and moved towards him. To cuddle him. He accepted it gratefully, almost dropping into her hold. She felt she was holding him up for a while.

"She's in bits." He whispered again into her hair. "She's alone." Was all he then said. "Sam's away too."

Molly nodded. She knew what was coming and knew what had to be done.

"You need to go right?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry." He looked at her. "Just for the night. Just for now. I'll be back tomorrow. I promise."

She smiled up at him.

"I know. Go." Was all she said and moved away from him. Giving him permission to leave.

He too felt her release and moved away and started around his home packing for an overnight stay. She didn't follow him. She didn't help. She just sat there alone in the kitchen drinking the wine he'd set aside for their evening together.

Soon, too soon, he was packed and ready to leave. Knowing the urgency in being there to support Rebecca. Molly noted that not even an hour had passed since she'd come home, excited, full of expectation, and here he was leaving. Her feelings very much different to what they had been on first coming through her front door.

"I'm sorry." He said as he held her tight. "I have to go. It's the only way."

"I know." She gave a watery smile. Feeling selfish that she was upset, where it was Rebecca who had suffered the loss. Rebecca who was grieving.

"I'll be back. Tomorrow I promise." He'd went on. Hoping he would. "Then we can go on with our plans for the weekend."

"That will be good." She kissed him. "Drive safe. Yeah?" She instructed and then she kissed him deeper, kissing him goodbye.

"Oh shit." He turned back to her. Remembering. "I'm sorry. Your surprised tomorrow. Oh, Molly I'm so sorry."

"Go. Don't be daft. We'll do it another time." She smiled hopefully.

"Yeah. Ok." He kissed her briefly again, but emotionally had already left her. He'd clocked out from them, instead on his way to his potentially emotionally unstable ex-wife.

She watched the brake lights turn the corner before she went back inside. The smell of burning catching her throat just as the smoke detectors went off.

"Bugger."

She ran to the kitchen, and pulled from the oven a very burnt lasagne. Her favourite meal, especially the way he made it for her. Crashing it down hard in to the sink, and then throwing open the window and doors she found that tears were rolling down her face.

She blamed them at first on the smoke in the room, but as they turned into huge ones, and then sobs, she realised she was heartbroken and scared.

Once again, their plans, their future thrown into disarray by Charles leaving her to deal with his ex-wife.

Once again Molly was the one left behind. The one all alone.

Once again Rebecca had commandeered Charles attention away from her.

Once again Molly was alone. 


	12. Chapter 12

**All Change**

**Chapter 12**

She closed the door on the spare room. Hoovering and dusting not exactly how she'd planned on spending her day off. Or even her birthday weekend. But that just what she'd done and now all she had to do was wait for their guest.

Charles had called on the Friday morning to apologise, explaining to her he couldn't leave Rebecca alone. He was too worried about her, but still promised he'd be home that night. Her happiness at this news was very short lived however as in his next breath he mentioned that he was bringing Rebecca home too.

She was disgusted in herself for a while, selfishly shocked to hear him tell her rather than ask her about Rebecca staying. Time and tea had calmed her down and had made her appreciate that poor Rebecca must be in a bad state and therefore needed their support. Molly Dawes known for her big heart dug deep into her reserves and tried. And that's how she therefore took all her frustrations out on the housework rather than on Charles.

It was pointless she reasoned with herself. She'd known, from very early on, that Charles had spent a large majority of his life caring for Rebecca when necessary, and this was certainly one of those times. So Molly felt she had to stop being unreasonable and appreciate the good that Charles was doing. Accepting he was the closest thing to a carer Rebecca had.

She instantly understood his reasons why though when Rebeca walked through the door, looking broken and hollowed out. Usually so perfect, smart and sharp. Here she now was crumpled and a shadow of her former self. Molly's big heat went right out to her. She showed her every kindness that she could. She understood Charles' compassion for this broken lady.

They settled her in to the spare room as soon as Charles walked through the door with her, seeing her exhaustion. Giving her comforting words and a sleeping tablet, then leaving her to rest. Rebeca was childlike, enveloped in the duvet, accepting the soothing words encouraging her to sleep as Molly watched with thousands of emotions as Charles kissed Rebecca softly on the head as he said his good nights to her. He turned and caught Molly looking on. Instantly he was wary as to her response, but relieved when he saw none, and they both left the room without comment.

She surprised even herself as she'd witness that act. The kiss. Knowing she couldn't be jealous of the simple act. It was pure, almost as though she was a child in his charge. No envy broke into her heart at this stage as she watched, instead she felt just pure love for this caring man.

As they made their way to their room, he threw his arm around Molly's shoulder, holding her in tight to him, but didn't speak until they were finally alone in their own room.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry we had to cancel your special day." He held her tight.

Molly could see that Charles was exhausted too. She returned his hug, saddened at how draining all this was for him.

"It's alright." She softly spoke. "How is she? How's you?"

He sarcastically chuckled.

"She's a mess, but better than I thought. Just grieving I think... that's all." Then he flopped down on the bed. "Me I'm knacked."

"I bet." She started to pull off his shoes and socks, then laid down next to him. "Have they said what caused it yet?"

"Yeah. Most likely an aneurysm. Quick painless, and she hadn't been there too long before Rebecca found her." He threw his hands over his eyes. "I'm so worried this is going to set her back. She's been so good lately." He mumbled.

"I know. You said." Then sitting on the edge of the bed. She turned and said. "We'll help her though. Won't we?"

He pulled his face into a resigned look. Speaking so quietly she doubted he wanted her to really hear.

"Here we fucking go again." He said and she couldn't fail to miss the bitterness in the sentence.

She ran a hand along his trouser leg. Resting it eventually on his chest.

"I'm here. I'll help." She offered feeling useless, and directionless. "Hungry?"

"No." He still laid on his back. "Just tired. Do you mind if I turn in?" He asked.

This surprised her, although not super early, it wasn't super late either, and she'd expected them to spend some time together now Rebecca was asleep. They'd spent almost two whole days apart. She was aching to be with him, was longing to have him to herself, so his request sorely disappointed her.

"No. That's ok." She kindly replied. "I'll come up later." And she pecked his forehead and reluctantly left as he started to undress.

He grabbed her hand as she turned to leave.

"I'm so sorry Molly. This isn't what you signed up for." He sadly looked at her.

She couldn't say anymore, she merely smiled and left.

Lost in the big house without him, that's how she had felt when he'd been away. Had expected some calmness in her nut to occur now he was home. Yet it didn't. She couldn't face staying up too late, even though she wasn't tired. Too many questions flying around her head made it difficult for her to settle, plus she had missed him and so after pretending to tidy up downstairs she went up to bed just to be closer to him.

However sleep for her, unlike in Charles' case, didn't come easy and found her awake and full of nervous energy very early the next morning. Not wanting to wake the house she put on her running shoes and quietly set off to burn some energy.

From the very start in her Army career, once she had stopped raging against the Army machine, she found running was her saviour. It cleared her head, focused her up, and the fact it kept her fit and stopped her thighs exploding was a bonus. Since moving in with Charles, now they had a little more time outside of the bedroom, it was something that they both loved to do together. He pushed her on, she slowed him down so he had even started to appreciate where he was running. Before he was all about the pace rather than the enjoyment, now he saw where he ran, rather than just the act. It was the perfect balance, making it so much more fun, and so today she missed her running buddy.

The run helped her, turned the negatives of the situation into tolerable positives. And over an hour later as she walked through her front door, feeling alive and sweaty she was ready to be the strong woman she knew Charles would need. It all stopped however as soon as she walked through the door. Her eyes greeted by a sight that seriously challenged the reasonable, understanding woman she was hoping to become.

Sitting on the sofa, their sofa, the one they snuggled up too so many times, were Charles and Rebecca. Both fast asleep, both still in their sleep wear, arms entwined around each other, both blissful and relaxed. It started a fire somewhere deep down inside her and burned as she took in her Charles in a sitting position, with Rebecca cradle in his arms as her head rested on his chest.

The sight shocked her. She knew she needed to leave. Worried about her reaction, which the small part of her that was still reasonable, knew wouldn't be helpful. She turned, but as quietly as she thought she had been she must have made a noise as Charles' eyes shot opened.

"Hey." He smiled quietly at her. There was no guilt on his face. No worry. The situation of him holding his ex-wife apparently normal to him she assumed. "Missed you." He said so quietly.

Molly bit back the anger, the tears, and just turned and left. Running as fast as she could for the shower. Hoping the water spray and distance would give her time to think, to calm down. The pain of watching him hold another woman in his arms flaring up inside her. Fuelled by confusion and the lack of shame he had in her finding him so.

She stood for a long time. Still letting her anger dissipate with the water flow. Watching the water fly off her, imagining each droplet was taking away every ounce of jealousy, of rage. The image that had stirred up memories of past betrayals and the lives that had changed because of it. Eventually though she felt in control enough to leave and face the Charles and Rebecca show. Knowing that Charles was just being kind, supporting a bereaved friend, and that she should never put in him the same box as past cheating boyfriends.

"Thought you'd drown." Were his first words. He sat on the edge of the bed waiting for her as she left the bathroom. He'd seen the tears in her eyes as she'd left and ran upstairs. Confused at first, then as he waited it slowly dawned on him what she could mistakenly have seen.

"Rebecca ok?" Molly asked though not looking at him. Focusing on getting her clothes ready for the day. She was calmer, but not fully. There was still a degree of anger simmering away. Draws closed slightly louder than normal, skin dried harder than before.

"Yeah. Now. Had a bit of a melt down before. She woke up and had a panic attack. Wore her out." He moved his head following her. "She's still asleep on the sofa." He added. Appreciating the reasons for her distance.

Molly said nothing and went about getting dry, moisturising her skin, putting on her underwear. Knowing full well he was watching her. Letting him.

"You ok?" He finally asked. Quietly. He knew the answer. Her upset was bouncing around them.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She bit back.

"Molly!" He went over to stand next to her. She felt strangely vulnerable now, and not just because she was only in her underwear, she hurried to put on more clothes.

"Talk to me please." His voice broke as he spoke. "I know this isn't what you signed up for. I'm sorry."

She pulled her dress over her head and saw the start of tears in his eyes. He continued.

"And ex-wife who says jump, and I say how high." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It can't be easy for you. It's not an ideal situation."

He turned her to him, and still she didn't know what to say. She felt guilty. His life had been disrupted by a woman who was unwell, unable to cope. He'd lost so much because of Rebecca's needs. Molly knew she didn't need to add to his troubles.

She offered him a sad smile. Moved herself into him and went to offer him a kiss, to show he was forgiven. She was brought to a hard stop as he started speaking again.

"Plus. I'm cancelling all our weekend plans for your birthday." He added. "I've let you down."

She saw red. The anger going from simmering to fully boiled.

"What? All our plans? We're not going away tonight?" Her voice was loud and hard. She'd never even considered that her weekend would be completely stopped because of Rebecca. Had only seen her interruption to their plans as a short one.

Her voice commanded that he look at her.

"No. I just can't risk it Molly." He explained. "Rebecca needs me." He sighed heavily. "I daren't leave her alone."

Molly moved away and finished dressing but said no more. Proud of herself she for now was holding her tongue.

"I knew you'd understand." She saw him sit, eased, and smiled at her. A smile that usually would have had her melting, but today now she found it irritating and she broke free from her self-control. 

Her sudden movement started him. He watched her as she began to stride over to the other side of the bedroom, picking up their packed weekend bags and slung them both hard and angrily at his feet. She did not understand.

"Well you'd best unpack these then hadn't you." Then she stormed to the bedroom door.

"Where you going?" He asked truly shocked by her outburst.

She turned as she held tightly into the bedroom door.

"I'm getting out of your sight for a while. Gonna make breakfast if that's ok? I'm sure our extra special house guest is hungry buy now." And with that she slammed the bedroom door and left him to sit heavily on the bed in dismay.

Molly couldn't stay mad at Rebecca. She stood in the doorway again and watched her as she slept on the sofa. She'd already lost her father, had just lost her mother. A hard knock for anyone to take, but when they were as delicate as Rebecca, she understood why Charles was being so protective. It just hurt. She was second place in his world at the moment. A place she wasn't happy at being. Realising just how quickly she had grown used to being his priority. She was jealous, simply jealous.

She turned and saw him walking softly down the stairs. Sheepish and wary. It wasn't fair for either of them.

She half attempted a smile, but couldn't too sad about all those plans that had been changed. She wanted to scream, shout, behave like a two-year-old because she was not getting her own way. Yet she couldn't, she watched how low his head hung, how he stepped with caution as he got closer to her. How his whole body sang out at the unfairness of the burden he had. And so instead she ran over to him and hugged him.

"I'm sorry. So sorry." She poured out onto his chest. "You're a good man Charles and I know you're doing your best."

"Molly." He rocked back at the force of her embrace, then pulled her in and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry too. None of this is fair on you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She looked at him. "It's fine. Well it's not fine, but it's not the end of the world and I shouldn't have shouted."

He moved her into the kitchen and closed the door. Both heading towards the kettle and fridge to start on breakfast.

"It just." He began. "If I don't look out for her now. Who knows how bad she'll get, and then trust me... it will be worse."

"I understand." She watched him at the other end of the worktop, beating eggs, his frustration being played out on them. "I'm sorry. I was a cow."

He stopped and slammed the whisk down. Striding over to her. Pulling her into him.

"No, no you are not. You shouldn't have to understand. I shouldn't have to put you second place of her." He spoke with a fire in his voice she'd never heard. "I shouldn't have to any more, but I have to. She has no one else. No one."

She rocked him in her arms as the anger of the situation ebbed from him.

"You know. I'm here. I can help." She spoke.

He lifted his head from her chest.

"I can't ask you to do that."

She replied. "You're not. I'm offering." Then shyly she added. "You're not on your own anymore are you? You've got me?"

"God. Molly Dawes. What did I do to deserve you?" He looked at her amazed at her generosity.

"Don't know mate, but I bet you wished you hadn't." She attempted at humour.

He chuckled, and just held her. Their first test, first blow up now over. She'd offered him understanding and her help, and she meant it. She wanted to be with him and she knew he'd always be Rebecca's carer in some from or shape. She had to accept it and help him with his task, or risk being pushed out completely.

Her birthday weekend was ruined. Even though he'd suggested that she went without him. She turned down his offer, feeling secretly guilty about it, as she turned it down not merely to help in being around Rebecca, but also on some level she felt uncomfortable in leaving them alone together.

He held her that night mindful that everything was different, their plans changed. He was so fearful that Rebecca yet again would interrupt him and Molly.

"Thank you." Was all he said and kissed her. She lay almost on top of him curled into his chest, her head rising up and down in rhythm to his breathing where it lay on his chest.

"Did you ever? You know? You and Rebecca? Ever again?" She quietly asked.

Instantly he stilled. He knew what she was asking.

He slowly rolled her off and scooted down the bed to look at her. Face to face.

"Never." He said shaking his head.

She smiled a sad smile.

"Sorry. It's just you know. You're so close and that."

"She's the mother of my son. In the beginning Sam needed her and it was my job to make that happen. Then it just became the norm." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I had nothing else."

She held onto him.

"It hurt. A lot... today seeing you holding her." She admitted. "Just wondered that was all. About you and her. I mean after all you were married."

"We were, but then we stopped. And then I fell in love with someone else." He looked at her eyes wide with the fear she was feeling. "We never tried again, never wanted to. She's just someone who I care about deeply and needs my help."

She tried to make light of her insecurities.

"Queen of the lost cause... Eh Charles? That what you used to call me."

He pulled away from her slightly.

"She not a lost cause." He said determinedly. "She just delicate and needs help now and then."

"Yeah I know." She felt ashamed. "I didn't mean too..."

"I know Molly, but trust me Rebecca's metal health has it's good times and bad times, and I've been there throughout them all, but believe me it's worth it... the good times..."

He hugged her and they settled down for sleep, or at least Charles did as sleep wasn't forth coming for Molly. She'd hoped their talk would have settled her, but it left her feeling ashamed and with seeds of doubt in her mind.

Over the next few days Molly tried to help. Rebecca was quiet, grateful but very withdrawn and Molly knew Charles was troubled by it all. As they snuggled up in bed at night, she tried to offer advice, make suggestions but, having dealt with this for nearly twenty years he felt he knew how best to take care of Rebecca.

She felt hurt, left out and uneasy when she had to return back to Nottingham leaving them alone in the house, she now called home. Rebecca was very clingy, not even wanting to be alone in a room anymore. Constantly seeking Charles out. So utterly dependent on him once again emotionally. She was fearful it was all gone to turn to shit!

The funeral was delayed, issues, backlogs, whatever. It was still over four very long weeks before a date was arranged, and in that time Rebecca became very comfortable in their home. Each time Molly came back she saw a different Rebecca. A change to the shell of a woman who had first entered.

It wasn't just changes in Rebecca she saw, but changes in her home too. It was the little things at first that Molly noticed, like Rebecca being well enough now to doing the washing and ironing of Charles' shirts. Something he'd always insisted he did, his military precision, his years in the army and preparing kit, never seeing him give up that control. This help moved up a level when she found Rebecca in their room one day hang his clothes up, putting them in his drawers, while hers left still in a neat pile on the bed. Molly felt she was starting to care for him like a wife did.

Other things stated to happen too. Furniture was moved, small things like lamps and ornaments, even a picture or two, nothing major, just nothing either of them had agreed too. Charles saw none of it, and when she commented on it to him, he merely passed it off as Rebecca's way of regaining some focus. She remained silent, but when the early morning cups of coffee she'd shyly bring into their room before Charles showered started to happen, she knew her patience wouldn't last long. Molly felt threatened by her and wanted her gone.

She discussed with Charles about Rebecca's boundaries, but he was reluctant to challenge her. Felt it was a good idea for her to have domestic chores to help her mental health. Explaining that it was what she used to do before, before Molly, so she was just doing what was normal for her. Each time Molly mentioned it he listened, said he understood but did nothing and Molly always came away feeling the biggest, most unsympathetic heal going.

Molly was amazed when he said no. She suggested that on the day of the funeral she'd go with him. Support him as well as Sam and Rebecca. It was what she expected to do. He thanked her, held her close, said all the right words but ultimately turned her down. Feeling he'd be too tied up with Rebecca to consider Molly. And so quietly she walked away, a practiced smile fixed on her face pretending it was all ok, knowing that conflict was the last thing he needed right now.

"How did it go?" She asked sitting alone in her tiny bedsit. Her day had been awful. Constantly thinking of him, Sam, Rebecca, all together at the funeral.

"As you'd expect. Sam helped." Charles answered back down the telephone line.

Molly gripped the phone tighter to her ear as she heard the pain and tiredness in his voice. Angry she wasn't there for him. Angry she allowed him to talk her out of doing what she knew was right. Angry at Rebecca to a degree who was messing it all up between them.

"I miss you." She said. "Wish I'd been there."

"God, I miss you so much Molly. Can't wait until the weekend." And then he paused and she guessed what was coming.

She knew. No longer was Rebecca's stay a short one. She knew it was about to become more.

"Molly. Look I've asked Rebecca to stay with us. For a while." He hesitated. Knowing if it was hard to tell her, then it probably wasn't the right thing. Yet he'd gone ahead and done it anyway. "Is that ok?"

"You've asked her already?" She asked. Tears forming in her eyes. It was a rhetorical question he knew that.

"Yeah. I have." He was in trouble. "I just didn't think. Sorry."

"Then I guess it's going to have to be ok then? Isn't it?" She snapped back. Pleased this was a phone call as the tears trickled down her face.

"Molly..."

"Don't. Thought it was my home too, thought we shared. That what you said when I moved in." She started to fully cry. "But it's not is it Charles? It's yours and you make all the decisions."

"No. It is ours. I should have asked. Shit Molly." He drew in a breath. "I've fucked up, haven't I?"

"Yeah you have." Her voice quivered.

"I didn't think." He continued.

"No you didn't." A sigh escaped. "Thing is Charles you always lately seem to think of her first and me second. And I'm sorry if I sound like a bitch but that's how I feel."

"No I don't. Well I don't mean to. Molly it's you, always you." He lowered his voice knowing Rebecca would be close by. She always was. "It's just if she goes backwards then I'll never get my life back, our life back. I reckon if we do this for her now who knows in four, five months she might be strong enough to go home."

"Four or five fucking months." She yelled. "You're having a giraffe mate. I have to live with your ex-wife for four to five fucking months."

"Molly. Be reasonable." He snapped his mouth shut as soon as he spoke. These last words like a red rag to an incensed woman.

"Be reasonable." She laughed incredulously. "Be reasonable. Fine Charles. You've made your bed. Now lie in it."

"What does that mean?" He barked back.

"It means Charles. I need a break. Time to think. You play happy families with her." She told him. "Me. I'm off to my parents for the weekend."

"You're not coming home?" He shouted. "At all?"

"No. That exactly what I'm going to do." She bit back. "I'm going home. To my parents. Seems as though it the only one I still fucking have."

"This is your home." He flung back at her.

"Well it bloody doesn't feel like it." She snarled. "It feels more like a home for ex-wives than current loves." And with that she hung up on him.

Of course she couldn't run away from him forever. She knew that and when he turned up at her parent's house to beg forgiveness and for her to come home, she knew she had no choice.

"I fucked up." Were his first words on her letting him in to her parent's home.

The rest of the house hold still asleep. Molly wide awake, upset and expecting him. Knowing him too well that he'd turn up, so she was ready for him.

"And I've made your life harder." She offered back.

They both stood at either sides of the room. Unsure who should move first.

"No. You make my life better." The words caught as he spoke then. He'd spent the last 24 hours in hell. Praying he hadn't lost her.

He sat on the settee and held his head in his hands.

"I can only keep saying it." He said. "I'm sorry. It's just." He blew out looking around the room for inspiration.

She came and sat next to him. Held onto his arm and leaned into him. Encouraged he went on.

"Look Molly for nearly twenty years I done this on my own. Fire fought Rebecca and the potential destruction her moods can cause."

"Yeah. I know I understand that." She softly replied. Now was not the time for shouting.

She saw how tired he was, how deep his apology went, and that she knew she loved him, so she forgave him.

"I just felt pushed out a bit, I guess. Not used to all this." She explained.

"Come home?" He asked hopeful.

"I will." She smiled back at him.

"I'll try. It's just I'm so used to being 'it'. I guess it takes a bit of getting used to." He waved his hand between them. "Being part of a couple again. I've never had that, and I so very much want it with you."

She threw her arms around him.

"You're a prannet you know?" And she kissed him.

"Don't know what that is." He said smiling. "But if it means you'll accept that I didn't mean to hurt you and you'll come back home, our home... then I'll take it."

"It means." She explained. "That I love you, but your gonna have to start thinking about Rebecca and that she can't stay with us for ever."

"God, I know." He held her. "I want it back to how it was too..." He dropped his head and with shame admitted. "I hate all of this. Of still having to be there for her. Does that make me an awful person?"

She shook her head and stayed close. "No. Makes you human. I guess."

"It just Molly she's so unpredictable. It easier to micro manage her than to let her fuck it up herself." He hugged her with a degree if frustration at the situation.

"I know you're scare..." She returned his hug. "I'm not heartless you know. I do understand, but it can't be forever."

"It won't." He promised her. "It can't be. I won't let it."

And so she returned home briefly with him over the weekend as a sign of reconciliation. Both of them spending nowhere near the time alone with each other that they wanted. Both had a need to lock themselves away in their room, hide from the world and reconnect with each other. Yet they didn't. They couldn't. Rebecca was an ever present force in their home and both felt it keenly. They talked more though, quietly so they could not be over heard. They resolved issues, as best they could, as the one main issue continued to be a house guest. Charles offered to try harder, Molly offer to be more understanding. Both accepting the situation was impossible and hard, and was not going away quickly.

"What are you doing son?" His father asked him one weekend weeks later.

Charles' parent had come to stay, and from the moment they'd entered his home they saw how things were. Rebecca now stronger, mentally well and playing house at Molly's expense. Something Molly seemed to partially accept.

They has held their tongues however. Waited until the right moment, needing to speak to their son. Though it had been hard. Having enjoyed a late summer bbq, they looked on frustrated while watching Rebecca and Molly's silently power struggle over the evening as hosts, amazed at Charles' lack of interference and deference.

Once all the women had gone to bed, leaving Charles and Mark enjoying a final drink together, that's when Mark took his opportunity. Spurred on by his wife's urgent whispers of encouragement as she kissed him goodnight.

"Seriously Charles." Mark cleared his throat. "What the bloody hell are you playing at?"

Charles sighed. He knew what his father was alluding to. True, Molly and Rebecca had been getting on lately, but he knew it was a Herculean effort on Molly's side. And the truth of it was they were both starting to resent the lack of privacy they had, the lack of freedom, the lack of spontaneity their lives used to have. They worked, came home and played an odd game of middle class suburban life, Charles, Molly and the ex wife. Always the three of them, no longer just the two.

"I don't know what else I can do." Charles admitted. "She seems strong. In a good place. It's been months now, but every time I try to suggest she leaves I..."

"You bottle it?" Mark answered for him.

Charles just nodded.

"I tell you what you bloody need to do." Mark counselled. "Tell her to leave. If you don't your mother will. Took all my effort to stop her from doing it this evening."

Charles grinned at the image this conjured up.

"What does Molly think about all this? Rebecca and her feet under the table?" Mark asked.

"She's great. She tries." He swigged on his beer, crossing his legs, settling in for a discussion with his father. "Shit it can't be easy though."

"No." His father agreed. "Look. You and Molly? Where's that going?"

"Dad?" Charles laughed. "Are you asking are my intention are honourable?"

"I am son. Your Mum and I, before Rebecca moved in, have never seen you so happy." He patted his son affectionately on the back. "She's a keeper."

"I know. I really know. Had it all planed." He admitted. "Marriage, maybe a kid or two... then Rebecca happened... again."

"Son you've done this for twenty years. She's not your responsibility anymore. Time to let her do it alone."

Charles stared at his father. One of his biggest supporters throughout the years. The man he listened to more than anyone else in his life, and here he was telling him to let Rebecca and her needs go.

"Hell Dad. It's not that easy." Charles offered. "What happens if she can't cope again? Has another wobble. What then?"

"Charles." Mark patiently explained. "You have to let her try. You've sacrificed so much over the years for her. Don't sacrifice Molly. Let Rebecca try. You've got to stop rescuing her."

Mark stood and shook lovingly his son's shoulder.

"Tell her how it is. Move on, and take that amazing woman along with you." He turned to walk away. "About time we had another daughter in law in our lives." He laughed out.

Charles waved his bottle in a mock salute at his retreating father. He couldn't have agreed with him more. He knew it was time, had always been a decisive man. Just this time he need that reassurance from those he loved that he was right in finally putting himself and his life first. He guessed he sort their understanding at his intended move to withdraw from Rebecca's life. 

Charles went to bed that night. Conflicted, but confident. As he slipped in between the sheets he pulled his love tight in close to him.

"I love you Molly Dawes." He muttered into her hair. And he did, and he needed to show her, start living again with just her in his life.

She sleepily pressed herself into him and muttered automatically, her heart talking for her while her mind still slept.

"I love you too Bossman."


	13. Chapter 13

**All Change**

**Chapter 13**

She took two of the painkillers and readjusted the hot water bottle on her tummy. Looking at the clock she figured she'd have a few hours' sleep before Charles came home. 

It wasn't something, they as a ruled, talked about much. Both a bit too private about such matters, but her periods over the past months had been coming more painful and heavier and it was difficult for them not to talk about it. On her worst days he was nothing short of lovely. Spooning her, holding on to the hot water bottle in one hand and stroking her tummy in the other. Helping her with her cramps as best he could. 

She'd told him today was just a check-up. A regular thing, a 'woman's thing', and she honestly believed that's all it would be, but another part of her knew it wouldn't be. The discomfort, the change to her cycle, all signs that something wasn't quite right. 

She snuggled down, and before sleep came to her she thought about the past few months and how they had passed. The Rebecca problem sorting itself out quickly and easily. Molly had tried to be patient, had tried to understand, and she was rewarded for that by the man she loved. 

She hadn't pushed, to afraid. She hadn't complained, to unsure. She had just simply walked downstairs one morning to find Rebecca moving around and packing her bags. Smiling and happy in her task. Turning to Molly, full of apologies for staying too long and thanking them both for helping her so much. Bewildered Molly merely smiled, and never questioned it, but later, asked and shared with him that she was very grateful it had. 

Charles held her as he explained, and she felt the relief wash over him too as the situation had righted itself. She listened, happily to his words. A pincher type movement in helping Rebecca realise she was strong enough to move on he explained.

Charles tackled Rebecca from one side. Suggesting firmly it was time for her to stand on her own feet again. Cath and Mark made movements on the other side. Reminding her all Charles had given her, and now it was time to let him go. Both sides offering support, if needed, but firmly suggesting she needed to start going it alone once more. 

Rebecca to her credit understood. She saw the man who had done so much for her, had given up so much for her, and knew it was now time for him to focus on his future with Molly. It was only fair, and because she loved him, because they were such good friends, she readily stepped aside. 

And so the past few weeks had been blissful for Molly and Charles again. Their privacy returned; their deep level of intimacy rekindled. Both enjoying time together without the Rebecca complications. 

"Hey. You ok?" 

She woke from a deep slumber to find him stroking the hairs from her face. His beautiful face was etched with concern. 

She smiled sleepily at him. 

"Mmmmm. Yeah." Looking onto his caring brown eyes was one of the best ways to wake up. 

As he leaned in to kiss her he said, running his eyes over her. 

"What you doing in bed? You sick?" On coming home he was shocked to find her curled up in their bed. 

"No." She replied, pulling herself up to prove a point. "Just sore." And watching his eyebrows shoot up she went on. "They had to take my coil out. It was time and it was causing too many problems. Just a bit uncomfortable. That's all." 

"Oh!" He went a bit pink but continued. "Every things alright though isn't it?" 

"Yeah." She shifted up the bed and took a drink of water. "It was just time and they thought it best not to put in another one. Nothing to worry about." 

He merely nodded his head wisely. Holding onto her free hand and stroking her knuckles.

"Is there anything I can get you?" He kindly asked. 

She reached under the duvet and pulled out her hot water bottle waving it at him.

"Wouldn't mind this being refilled... and a cuddle." She smiled back at him. 

He chuckled at her simple request. 

"That I can do." And he disappeared into the en suit, quickly returning to kick off his shoes and slip out of his work clothes. 

Now only in his briefs he allowed her to get into her usual position then slipped behind her and held her. Placing the hot water bottle where it was needed. 

"Sorry you're sore." He muttered into her hair. 

"It's Ok." She answered back, loving the feeling of being held in his arms. The smell of his skin making her smile. "I'm sorry too." She went on. 

"What for?" He asked curious. His fingers now tracing slow delicate patterns across her tummy. 

"Cause we gonna have to use condoms for a while, until I start the Pill at least." She tried to make a joke. "Your bare back days are over for a couple of weeks or so. Sorry." 

"Molly." He gentle rolled her into her back. Leaning up and over her so he could look into her eyes. "That doesn't matter." 

She reached up and stroked his face. Always so understanding. 

"Is it what you want?" He gently continued. "The Pill and that?" 

"Yeah. Well no. Not too keen on all this hormones and stuff, but it's the only option I guess." She answered back. 

"Is it?" He allowed her to pull herself into a sitting position. He pulled her into his chest. "I mean...we...well that is if you still want to...with me...because I really want to with you." 

She looked up at him. Catching on. Slightly amazed at the speed this conversion had moved. 

"What you saying Charles?" She needed clarity. She saw the anxiety on his face and guessed that hers matched his. 

"I'm saying. I guess." He stuttered out. "Been thinking about it for a while. Us. Having kids...you and me." 

"Kids?" She asked. "Kids?" 

"Yes. You know a baby. This..." He held her face in one of his big hands and she leaned into it willingly. "This is it for me. All I've ever wanted. You. Me. Should we start thinking about having a baby together?" 

"Thinking?" She asked. Almost incapable, with threatened joy, to speak in sentences. 

"Well. No. More than that. Trying?" He said hesitantly. 

"Are you sure?" She could hardly get the words out. The subject matter so important to her, and one she feared she'd never have the option to talk about again. 

"Yeah! Unless you think I'm too old?" He asked frightened that she was about to turn him down. 

She laughed and tears spilled from her eyes. Pushed away from him and moved in front of him. Looking at him properly. 

"You're not too old. Never." She kissed his lips as he looked at her. "Just hope I'm not." She smiled. "Do you really really mean it?" 

"God yes. More than anything." He happily answered back. "Because I love you more than anything." 

She sank back on her heels, amazed at what they had just agreed on. It was a chance she never thought she'd get. Giving up on having a baby when her marriage failed, but accepting the sacrifice was worth it if she got to be with Charles. But now here he was offering her more, so much more than she had dared hope for. 

"Thank you." She let slip out through her sobs and smiles. "Thank you." She kissed him with utter reverence. With utter love and devotion. 

He grinned back at her wiping her face. The tears had soaked into her nightshirt and hair, he tried to dry her as best he could. 

"So. Just to be clear. No condoms?" He asked. 

"Check." She giggled. 

"No Pill? No nothing?" He spoke. 

"Check, check." She confirmed. Then leaned forward and whispered. "Just lots and lots of sex I guess. Can you handle it Bossman?" 

He was fairly sure he could. 

"So how come I've never heard about him before now?" She asked after stopping her laughter at hearing his name again. All the while keeping her eyes out for a car parking space. "Hell it's busy." She mumbled. 

"What? Haven't you?" He asked surprised. "Well he's always someone who's been around. On and off." Charles explained. 

"You've never mentioned him." She pointed to a space and Charles pulled in. "Is he a secret?" 

He turned to her. Needing to explain.

"Look Elvis is special, met him during my basic, became sort of friends, but then over the years we ended up in some hairy places together, and we became good friends. Great friends. His job takes him away a lot. We go months and months with no contact."

He thought he'd said enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Yeah? Just think it's odd that you've never mentioned him. No stories or that before." She quizzed.

He sighed. He should have known. Molly would only settle once she had the full story. Sensing, rightly so, that he had more to tell.

"Look. If I'm honest. A few years ago we had a bit of a falling out. He made me do some dirty work for him. I wasn't too happy about it, and it put a huge strain on our friendship." 

"Shit." Molly asked. Amazed Charles was one of the most loyal men she knew. She needed to know more. "What did he get you to do?" 

Charles sat staring ahead in the stationary car, and drew in a huge breath.

"He jilted his bride on her wedding day." Watching her surprised face, he continued. "Thing was he left it up to me tell her he wasn't coming." He looked at her as she listened. "It was awful."

Molly saw how still just talking about it caused bad memories for him. 

"Wow. That's something." She whistled out. "Harsh. Why?" 

"It gets worse. He'd just found out he had a daughter to a one night stand! Didn't know how to tell his bride to be. So he jilted her and left me to deal with the shit." 

"Bloody hell." She said. "He sounds lovely. Can't wait to meet him."

"Well." Charles unclipped her seatbelt and leaned over to stroke her face. "You're about to, and the future Mrs Harte to boot." 

She made to leave the car. Checking her make up one last time. Preparing herself for the engagement party they were about to attend. 

"Hope the future Mrs Harte doesn't know about what he did to his last fiancé." She laughed. "And I that don't get too pissed and tell her." She turned to wink at him. 

"Oh. She knows. Know all about it." Charles chuckled back, knowing he was going to shock her.

He paused dramatically. "It's the same woman. The bride he jilted, is giving him a second chance, and about to do it all again with him!" 

"NO. Shut the front door!" Molly shouted out in surprise. "Well this Charles James is suddenly going to be either the best or the worst engagement party ever!" And she giggled with the potential fun of it all.

Charles laughed out loud too at the excitement that he saw on Molly's face. His face now one of happiness.

"I know that look Dawsey. You're after all the gossip aren't you?" He asked.

She beam back at him and pretend to look hurt.

"Me? Nah. You've got that wrong." Then pulling her lips in to hold on to a loud giggle she tried to compose herself. She couldn't stop herself though. "So this jilted bride, now soon to be wife.. again... does she have a name?" Molly asked.

"Georgie. Georgie Lane." Charles answered wistfully. "She's a medic too. A bloody good one apparently." Then catching a flash of jealously cross Molly's face he dipped his head to hers. "But doesn't come close to you my love. You were the nuts remember?"

She was pleased to see him happy. It was hard, he'd confessed earlier to her, sometimes to attend events that had a lot of military colleagues there. Most of them were, he said, still living the life he'd expected to live. The life he'd always wanted. Most of them had progressed through the ranks and achieved the things he had at the beginning hoped he would. He saw his dreams played out through others, yet he still came. He returned to reunions year after year, fearful of losing all links with past, despite the regret and uncomfortableness of it all.

Since that fateful day. The wedding that wasn't a wedding, Charles though had to admit that he had struggled to keep in touch with Elvis. For a while Elvis had wisely disappeared from everyone's radar, and when he did return Charles found it hard to forgive. Yet he did, as Elvis had been a good friend over the years, despite his transient nature in Charles and Sam's lives. Something most of the time Charles had been pleased about, as Elvis was totally without the ability to appreciate the responsibilities Charles had to deal with. Frequently trying to encourage or involve Charles in drunken schemes that were way out of his comfort zone or ability to take part in being a single parent.

Charles also struggled with the friendship too as felt slightly ashamed at his friends' actions, both on that day and since. The lack of contact Elvis had with his daughter, or her mother, claiming he was a poor role model, made Charles view Elvis in a poor light. Finding it hard to understand at how his friend just stayed away from his responsibilities, the exact opposite to Charles. 

The friendship though limped along, as the years went by, infrequent contact, but it still contact. Elvis perhaps not fully appreciating Charles' views in it all. Then after many months of no contact no one was more surprised than Charles when the invitation popped through his door. An invitation to his engagement party. A big loud and very public do for Elvis to celebrate that he'd been given a second chance. One Charles was unsure he really deserved. After seeing Georgie that day, so broken, he would never have imagined she would have given him a second chance. Yet here she apparently was.

On entering the hotel though Charles, with Molly's hand tightly grasped in his he knew it was immediately it all Elvis. Loud, bold and very much in your face. Clearly he suffered no shame about his past behaviour to his fiancé. It would appear that when Elvis put on a party no matter what for reason he went for it 100%.

"Charlie Boy." The shout rang out loud and clear across the room.

Molly wouldn't have taken much noticed of it had Charles' whole body stilled and clenched.

"For fucks sake." He mumbled under his breath as he turned.

She was bewildered but didn't have time to react as she saw a gorgeous dark haired, dark eyed man stride over and pull Charles into a hug.

"Fucking hell Charlie Boy. You made it." Charles fell into the hug she imagined the man, called Elvis, pulled him into.

"Elvis." Charles replied but not as stiffly as Molly had expected. She watched him as he returned the hug with affection.

"Good to see you Charlie Boy." Elvis called out again.

"Elvis." Charles begged. "Less of the Charlie Boy. Please." Then turned to bring Molly into the conversation. Raising his eye brows as he notice the silent giggle she was having in hearing him being called Charlie Boy.

"This." Charles said with pride in his voice. "Is Molly, my Molly. Molly meet Elvis."

"Charmed." Elvis dipped his head low and took her hand to kiss it. "Heard a lot about you." He said which just left Molly to sneak a look at Charles as he flushed on Elvis' disclosure.

"Yeah?" She replied pulling her hand back from his grasp, feeling it had gone on a bit too long. "He's never mentioned you once mate."

Charles burst out laughing at this, and though briefly wounded at not being talked about, Elvis did too.

"She's a live one mate." He said to Charles.

"Oi. I am here you know." Molly moved closer to Charles, who placed his arm protectively around her.

"So what is it you see in our Charlie Boy?" Elvis asked Molly. "We thought he was just about to become a monk or sommit."

"Fell for his charm and magnetism, didn't I?." She grinned back and Charles held onto her even tighter.

"She loves me Elvis." Charles added to reinforce their togetherness. This made Molly smile in agreement.

"Poor deluded fool." Elvis shouted out while attracting the attention of his fiancé. Beckoning her over with the click of his fingers.

She came, much to Molly's surprise, and she watched as a beautiful creature walked towards them. Elegant, not too tall, but utter perfection. Molly felt instantly inferior in her presence, wishing she could command a room full of attention as this woman did. As she joined them she noticed Charles shift uncomfortably, being only too aware that the last time they had seen one another was on the wedding day that wasn't. Both felt concerned as she walked closer, Elvis though was oblivious. However they need lot have worried as Georgie instantly made them all feel at ease. She was happy, welcoming and kind and showed no malice towards Charles. Seeming genuinely pleased to see him. Charles relaxed and Molly felt happy.

Georgie clung on to Elvis, as soon as she was close enough. and showed off the killer ring to them. Her smile almost out dazzling the rocks on her hand. Everything about her was expensive and high maintainable and Molly could see that Elvis, smitten, very much danced to her tune. His eyes never leaving her face, his body constantly in touch with hers. 

The four of them spent a large part of the afternoon in each other's company. All discovering, and rediscovering friendships. The conversation was light, fun and Molly heard tales about Charles that had her crying with laughter. The free bar, the generous gift from Elvis of overnight accommodation, the beautiful surroundings and excess of hospitality helping the afternoon and evening pass very well indeed.

Molly looked over at Charles several times who reluctantly agreed that he was having fun too. He had a spark in him with these people that she hadn't seen for many a year. Both though stayed close to each other throughout. Both amazed at the expense, the detail, and the attention of it all. Charles admitted though it was good to see his friend happy and with the woman he loved. Feeling they all had moved on and that afternoon turned out to be first of many more catch up over the intervening months, and their friendships all moved on.

He didn't want to say anything. Too worried about jinxing it. Beside his parents were coming at the weekend and he didn't think it would be right. He'd just have to wait out. 

Yet he found it hard to do. Every time he looked at her he couldn't help but wonder. His stomach flipped over at the thought of it all.

They had just returned home from their very belated Christmas present to them both. A Caribbean holiday just for them in the early spring. Two weeks of nothing but each other. Something to put the stress and statins of the past months behind them. Something he'd experienced before, but something Molly hadn't. She loved every single tiny second of it. Making sure their days were filled with adventures and experiences she never thought she'd have, and their nights filled with her showing him just how much she loved him. 

Their love continued happily. Delighting in each other. She hadn't focused solely on getting pregnant. Very wary that time and age were against them to an extent, and just simply she might not be able to. Yet she didn't want that to define her. That wasn't her. That wasn't them. Whatever they had was far more than they had expected to have. The need to have a child wasn't going to consume them, she hoped. Nature would take its own course. Of that she was certain. And so their lives continues, they remained as close and as intimate as always. Nothing changed on the outside. 

Except everything did change for them both secretly. In the several months they had been trying she had waited, expectantly for a sign for an event not to take place that would show they had been successful in their efforts. But three months in she remained quietly, but bitterly disappointed. She tried not to show it. Pretended it didn't matter, but it did. He saw that. She wanted this more than anything, apart from her wanting Charles. 

Their lives continued, but they both very quickly realised that the distance, her working away during the week was no longer an option. Too many missed nights. Too many missed opportunities. So carefully, gently he suggested something he thought she'd never agree to. To give up her job, go freelance. Only take work when it suited her and closer to home. She agreed. Instantly, feeling it was right for them both. Accepting that they were in this together, he'd support her, support 'them' when the time came. She felt somethings were more precious than her pride, and she felt totally loved.

Secretly though she hoped the less stress, the more nights spent under the same roof would give them both the happy news they so wanted. And so when six months down the line the miracle hadn't happened spirits were flagging, but not their enthusiasm. 

And now here they were almost three weeks back and he could tell. Yet he chose to keep quiet. This was her news, eventually his, but it was hers for now. He saw small changes to her body. Her nipples darker, more sensitive. Her tummy softer. A glow about her he'd never seen. A look every now and then he'd catch in her eyes. He was fairly certain that even she didn't know, but he was certain he did. Yet he still didn't say anything. 

He sat in his office working late as she came in with his late night herbal tea, her attempt at ridding him of the headaches that still plagued him. As she turned to smile at him he saw the trouble look cross her face. There was no hiding from him. He knew her like no one else.

He held out his hand to her and she sat instantly on his knee. 

"I think we're gonna have to pee on a stick." She said and looked scared. 

He smiled.

"Yeah? I think I might make you right." He replied. 

"What? You do? You think so too?" She gasped out. 

"I do Molly. Fairly certain you do too. But I think we should pee on a stick just to be certain!" 

Her eyes glassed over as she stood and showed him the box. Passing it guiltily under his vision. 

"Well I'm no expert Molly but I think it works better if you open it up first." He dipped his head to try to catch her eye as she almost hid away. 

He lifted her off his lap and held her. He could feel her fear.

"Molly if you are then I love you with all my heart. If you're not I'll just love you that little bit more, because one day, and it will come, there'll be someone else to love. Maybe not this month or next…. but one day." 

She grinned as best as she could and turned to leave him for the downstairs cloakroom. 

The minutes ticked by, he stood rooted outside the door. She made no sound as she exited the small room with the used stick on her hand.

He didn't need to ask. As soon as she saw her face he knew. That look said it all.

No words were said, the situation just a bit too much and they held onto each other locking the rest of the world out.

"So we don't say anything?" He confirmed as they made the finishing touches to the lunch they were preparing for his parent's visit. It had been a week since that night she'd take the test, and their emotions still were raw. 

"Nah. I don't think we do. Well for now." She agreed. "They would only worry that there something wrong." 

He walked across to hug her. Wanting to support her in any way he could. Needing her to know that he was behind her no matter what. He felt more and more these days as though he failed in doing just that. Feeling that no matter what, he wasn't doing enough. He kissed her and she leaned in, needing him to hold her, something she needed more and more of these days. Then suddenly the doorbell sounded and they both turned down the hallway to greet his parents. Smiles firmly fixed on their faces.

His parents were always a delighted sight. Rushing in with their tales, and bags of treats, filling the house with their shouts of hello and happiness. It was impossible to tell who was talking and who wasn't. The hallway way filled with love and happiness. 

"I'm pregnant." Molly burst out as loudly as she could over the noise. A stunned silence followed. 

After what seemed a lifetime of stillness Cath was the first one to react. Pulling her in for a hug. Over Molly's shoulder she registered a shell shocked Charles being accosted by his father. Eventually once they progress down the hallway and onto the terrace Charles was able to catch hold of Molly. 

"I though we weren't going to say anything." He smiled at her. Certainly not mad at how she had broken their news. 

She knew he wouldn't be mad. Nothing since the positive test made him mad. Nothing since she'd shown him the stick with two lines on it weeks ago. Nothing really wiped the smile from his face any more.

"Couldn't wait. Sorry. You're ok about it?" She double checked. 

"Christ Molly since the day we found out I've been wanting to tell the world... 'look see that gorgeous woman... she's carrying my child'... Of course I don't bloody mind." 

She move into him for a hug.

"Thank you, but can we keep it to ourselves. For now. Just the four of us and maybe Sam if you want to." She hugged him tighter. "Just until the 12 week scan?" 

"What about your family?" He asked. She loved her family, but very quickly learnt it was best if they each lived their separate lives if the love was to continued. "Should we not tell them?" 

"No. Let's wait. For a while." She stared up at him. "Of course I want me Mum to know. They'll know, but for now just let it be us lot." 

"That's no problem. My love." And he kissed her as they moved closer into the house. 

"At least until we have a date." She went on as they broke apart and Charles tended to the drinks. 

"A date? For the baby?" He asked, and nodded at her plan. Turning his back on her as he poured out the fizz. 

"No." She hesitated, and said with all the confidence she knew she could muster. "A date for our wedding. I thought well, since I've had the good fortune to be knocked up by you, I'd push it a bit more and hope you might think about marrying me too?" 

He spun round and stared at her. She'd truly stolen his thunder. A proposal was on the cards, he merely had the details to work out. The ring, the one his mother gave him all those months ago sat in the draw in his office. He'd planned it all yet here she was beating him to it and asking him herself. 

He picked her up and carried her to the garden chair. Gently sitting her down. 

"I think Miss Dawes I could be persuaded to make you Mrs James in the very near future. " And he kissed her resoundingly on the lips.

"Is that a 'yes' then?" She giggled.

"That's very definitely a 'yes'." He giggled back. 

They kissed. Briefly, too briefly as his mother who'd been close by had heard their words and again rushed to hug them both.

She walked up the aisle slowly. Nearly six months pregnant and Molly had a beautifully large rounded bump. One she was fiercely proud of. It had however appeared out of know where. For months she'd wanted to look pregnant. Wanted to proudly show off the life growing inside of her. Studied herself each night for signs of one developing, and then suddenly, just like they said it would, it appeared overnight.

The past months had been crazy, and she'd stayed well and heathy in her pregnancy. Her family, and Sam, all when eventually told about the expected event and the wedding were thrilled. No dramas, no arguments, just happy times. Her notice at work filled, and now all she had to do was plan. Plan for baby James and plan to become Mrs James.

The church was cold, and she was pleased the dress she chosen was thin enough to still flatter her expanded shape, but also practical enough to keep her warm. The extra bolero type jacket adding to her comfort. 

Looking around the taken pews as she walked up the aisle she saw a few recognisable faces, but only a few. There were a lot of uniforms and a lot of ladies in hats she'd never seen before. As Molly scanned she recognised both his and her family members and smiled briefly at them.

As she reached the top she watched him step out from the pew to take her hand.

"You ok?" Charles asked as she got to him. Searching her face for problems. 

"Yeah." She smiled back at him as she held onto his gloved hand. "Baby resting on me bladder. Hope I can get through without needing another wee." She giggled. 

It was time for the congregation to sit. He shifted along the church bench so she was more comfortable and she snuggled into him. His arm wrapped round her for extra warmth. 

"Bit unusual the groom being so visible so early on isn't it." She asked Charles quietly as they sat waiting for it to start. 

"Apparently it was a provision of Georgie's." He said. "You know after last time. He had to be here well before the ceremony, and apparently someone was calling her to let her know this time he had turned up." 

Molly pulled a face.

"Shit. Bit OTT ain't it?" She asked as they both sat and watched a nervous Elvis shuffle up at the front of the church. His presence for his wedding on full show. 

"I don't know. He hurt her." Charles said. "She'd just wants it all right the second time around I guess." 

Molly looked around the church for the first time, as when she arrived she'd had to rush straight off to the loo. It was a week before Christmas, and the church was utterly magical. There had been no expense spared. Flowers everywhere, each guest had been given a beautiful button hole. The invitation to the ceremony very fancy, just as the reception promised to be. Everyone was enjoying themselves. Happy. Just what she guessed Elvis and Georgie wanted. This was their big day, and a big declaration of trust for all involved. The several nights of pre and post partying that Elvis had paid for, in fact the entire wedding and reception he'd solely paid for, were all ways in which Elvis this time wanted to show the world and the woman he was to marry just how much she meant to him.

Magical though it was, and suited Georgie, it didn't suit Molly. She was pleased her wedding was not going to be as showy. That wasn't her, and as it was planned in the coming weeks, due to her size and it being her second time around for both of them, it was very low key. Intimate and a reflection of their love for each other. 

She shifted closer to Charles to get some more of his famous body warmth and his smell. He looked relaxed and happy. Secretly pleased with himself that he had survived, fairly decently, Elvis' stag do. He had even been asked to be the best man again, but Charles had very definitely said no, despite Georgie surprisingly begging him too. He'd explained to Molly that he had done that once, and only once. He kindly declined feeling it was too much like deja vu.

"She's a bit late." Molly looked at her watch noting the time.

She saw him smile at her with such love.

"I won't be." She promised him. Reassured him. 

Charles didn't have time to answer. His phone bleeped in his jacket pocket. Gaining looks of disgust from other guests and Molly. 

He apologised, silencing his phone, and then went on to read the text. 

Molly watched as his face change, resulting in a white horrified look. Then felt his confusion as he silent mouthed the words. 

"Oh holy fuck."

"Charles?" She asked. Totally alarmed. "What's wrong." 

He turned to look at her. Almost shattered that he had to do this again. 

"She's not coming." He said simply. "She's just text."

"Who? Georgie?" Molly said too loudly and caught Elvis' eyes on her. "What do you mean she's not coming?" She asked urgently in a whisper. 

"Georgie. She's just text me. Thought it was only right that I'd be the one to tell him. Like I did to her last time." 

Molly was struggling to take it all in. "You mean. She's jilting him?" 

"Yeah." Charles passed the phone over so she could read the text. "She's been playing him along. This is her revenge for what he did to her all those years ago. Pretended to love him and bleed him dry. Poor bastard." 

"Flaming hell Charles." She passed the phone back to him having read the very to the point text. "What you gonna do?" 

Charles swallowed and stood up. Turning said to her he simply said. 

"Tell him." He weakly smiled. "Tell him that Georgie can't go through with it. Tell him what she's been up to." 

She watched him make his way up the aisle. She watched him tap Elvis on the shoulder and speak the words.

She watched as Elvis' heart broke hearing the words that he'd lost the woman he loved.

She watched as Georgie's scheme had the desired effect of hurting him just as she had wanted it to. 

"The bitch." Was all Molly could mutter under her breath, as the rest of the congregation absorbed the news. 


	14. Chapter 14

All Change

Chapter 14

How you feeling?" She tipped toed into the darken bedroom seeking out his form tangled within the bed sheets.

"Better thanks." He croaked out. "Sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for Charles." She smoothed his damp curls down from his forehead. Staring into his almost puppy like brown eyes as he asked for forgiveness. "For better or for worse remember?" She said.

"Yeah. I know and I have Molly... a need….to say sorry." He explained and smiled at her as she struggled to slip in next to him. "Cause I guess this wasn't how you expected to be spending your honeymoon was it?"

She finally snuggled in to him. Puffing out a laugh.

"Well I bet you never imagined you'd be spending your honeymoon with someone the size of an entire continent either."

He chuckled at her comment while stroking his hand across her large rounded belly. For now their child was quiet inside of her.

They had been married for a total of five whole glorious days. Her pregnancy advanced enough that flying was not an option so they chose to honeymoon in a beautiful hotel somewhere in the north of England. Far enough to feel as though they had been away, close enough to home in case they needed to come back quickly.

In those five days they had truly relaxed, made love in an awkward eight months pregnant fashion, had taken in the beautiful coastline...and then had talked long into the night about the fallout from Elvis' wedding. A topic that was never far from their lips. The wedding that never was. The wedding that broke that proud man's heart, just like it had intended to do all along.

"Your phone went off while you were asleep." Molly spoke first. She'd been on her own for the last couple of hours while Charles attempted to sleep off one of his now quite frequent debilitating migraines. "It was Elvis."

"Shit." Charles sat up too quickly. "Where is he? How is he?" He asked.

"Calm down." She firmly instructed, not wanting his movements to start his headache up again. "He's ok. Considering. Didn't say where he was, but he wants to come and see you. If that's ok?"

Charles nodded. Knowing that Molly would not have turned his friend away. That she had been just as worried as he'd was, since the day Georgie had jilted him at the alter in front of all his friends and family. Since the day, a month or so ago Elvis had stormed out of the church and no one had heard from him since.

"When?" Was all Charles asked, settling back down. Enjoying her stroking his creased forehead.

"Sometime after we get back from honeymoon. He's going to see his family first." She explained, then added. "He sounded shit Charles."

"I bet he did." He hugged her tighter. "Still can't believe she did that to him."

"Neither can I." Molly sighed bewildered. It was a question they had asked lots over the past weeks. "How can someone plan to be that nasty?"

Charles shook his head. The whole situation had him at a loss. The time, effort and not to mention money Elvis had thrown into making Georgie happy, all thrown back in his face, humiliated him this time by not turning up for their second wedding day. He guessed she finally got the revenge she was after.

"I'm so lucky." He simply said.

She tried to squirm around to look at him, but struggled. Ever expanding these days. She was slow and deliberate in everything she did, but through every uncomfortable second of it all she loved it.

"So am I mate." And to her response she received a soft kiss from him planted in her hair line

They both sat lost in their own thoughts for a while. She knew his migraine wouldn't have totally gone, but usually a few hours' sleep dulled it to a headache and he was able to come back to normal. Soon they would shower and get ready for the evening meal, but for now they just sat in a comfortable silence.

She played over their happy times of the past week. How the awful events of Elvis' wedding day spurred them on even more to count their own blessings.

Their wedding day was perfect. Something, as she waddled down the aisle, they both knew was so meant to be, despite the long long wait for it to happen for them. It was a small, quiet, but utterly beautiful affair.

Both sets of parents, family and their close friends all delighting in their big day. Sam proudly supporting his Dad as best man, and Molly's parents finally accepting that Charles was the man for their daughter, both assisted in giving her away. There was no Rebecca though. The small selected guest list and Molly's generosity, didn't quite stretch that far on her special day.

It was a small registry office, not a church wedding like last time for either of them, but it couldn't have felt more right. Even the fact her back ached, her hidden feet were swollen, and she was as wide as she was long, didn't distract Molly. For when she looked into Charles' eyes she saw what he was seeing, herself, just as she was in his eyes, perfect.

When they had said their vows and kissed each other as man and wife for the first time they both knew that despite it all, the wait, it had been worth it. To be there together as man and wife, whatever they had been though, paled into insignificance, finally they were together.

Understandably Elvis didn't attend, and she knew Charles was worried. He'd gone AWOL from his friends and family, squaring it away with the Army, but that was all. He simply had disappeared. Molly knew Charles was worrying about him and was certain that today's migraine was probably brought on by the stress of it all, but she kept her own counsel on the matter. Intent for the moment focusing on the here and now.

"Elvis. Mate." Charles opened the door to his friend days later. He instantly pulled him in for a hug.

Elvis said nothing just returned the manly grip and hung on. Both needing this reconnection.

They made their way into the kitchen, Molly had suggested to Charles that she'd keep herself scarce when Elvis first turned up, but he would have none of it. He needed her there, and he knew Elvis would too. Besides, he joked, she was heavily pregnant, only weeks to go, so there were few places she could actually move to. And now seeing how Elvis rushed to Molly for a hug made Charles so glad that he had made her stay.

Molly and Charles' eyes met over the top of Elvis' shoulder as he hugged her. Molly and Charles looked at each other in silent comprehension. Elvis, their friend, was broken, one look at him and anyone could see that. His clothes not quite as sharp as they used to be, his beautiful face not as preened as it once was. A smell of stale liquor and neglect delicately hung around him. He needed their help.

Gratefully he sat down with them in the kitchen. Accepting the tea and listened to the sympathy both her and Charles offered him.

"Didn't see it coming mate. Not at all." He admitted to them finally, when he was ready to talk. "She seemed so happy with me."

He shook his head and continued.

"Poor deluded fool. Eh? Bet everyone's thinking I got what I deserved aren't they?" He looked around at them for confirmation.

Molly slid her hand into his across the table. The awful experience he'd been through wanting her to bond with Charles' friend more than before. It wasn't just his heart that was broken, his pride had been destroyed too.

"No one thinks that Elvis." The opposite." She gently said squeezing his hand. "No one."

He smiled rudely back at her.

"You know she's cleared me out? My savings...gone." He explained. "I paid for everything. She said once we were married she'd transfer her savings into a joint account. Until then it was all down to me."

Molly and Charles shared a pained look. It was as they feared. They had expected that Elvis had paid for everything. Hearing Elvis' words they realised just how bad it was.

"Paid the deposit on the house. Honeymoon. Entire wedding, hen, stag. You name it 'mugs' here paid for it all." He dipped his head, ashamed.

"How bad is it?" Charles asked.

"Bad." Was all Elvis said, and knew he'd made a huge mistake. "But mate I was willing to do it all cause I really loved her. Was so fucking happy when she said 'yes'. Gave me another chance. I'd have done anything."

"Have you heard from her?" Molly asked, still aware Elvis held onto one of her hands tightly, while his other tried to wipe the wetness from his face secretly.

"Yeah. Once...she called. She explained it was her pay back and I deserved everything I got." He went on. "Went back to the house... didn't I…..and all her stuff has gone. Everything."

Molly went to move, as his tears started to fall. She knew beers and man on man time was what Elvis needed now. She made her excuses, and kissing Charles almost guiltily on the head as she passed him by, left them to it for the evening.

"He's a mess." Charles whispered into her hair as he pulled her rounded form into him many hours later in their bed.

She hadn't been asleep. Indigestion, back ache, constipation and worry about the conversation going on downstairs were not good sleep partners for her these days.

"I'm worried about leaving him here alone." Charles continued.

"He's not alone. I'm here." Molly bravely said.

She watched Charles' face as he thought it through, not expecting his mate to become one of her problems. Reasoning yet another of his problems quickly becoming one of hers, just like Rebecca had. Molly didn't care, she just knew Charles was almost sick with worry at having to go to Switzerland for a two day meeting at the end of the week, and she wanted to help. She knew he was worried as she was so close to her due date, but try as he had, the trip couldn't be put off. Rubbish timing but he had to go. These meetings had been frequently events over the months and years, part of his job, something he accepted and willingly went to usually, but with Molly so close to giving birth he resented this trip away so very much.

"Besides." She offered to soothe his troubled thoughts. "It's the perfect solution. I'll have more than enough minders here with me 24/7 when you're away. Elvis, plus your parents visiting I'll be fine." She rolled her head to kiss him on the neck. "So you'll be able to concentrate on doing your stuff and getting back to me on time."

He kissed her right back.

"I might make you right." And then he pulled her tighter to him, stroking her belly. "Promise me though Molly you won't have this one until I'm back."

She smiled at him and he saw it from the corner of his eye.

"I promise." She said. "Promise."

He turned and held her. His forehead resting on hers.

"Do you know just how much I love you?" He asked.

She closed her eyes in a silent pray of thanks.

"I do! Almost as much as love you." She uttered back gently.

"Every day. Every single day I thank Lady Luck for bringing you back to me." She stared into his earnest eyes as he spoke. "And now you're about to have my child. I'm so happy."

She smiled. A quick retort almost slipping out, but this was too serious, too precious a moment. He continued.

"I know you can't promise me Molly, nature has its own say in this." He sighed softly. "But I need to be there, by your side, when this little one comes into the world."

She held her hands up to his face. "Don't worry. You will be. We'll wait for you." And tried to wash away his fears with a kiss.

She stood holding on to the door long after his taxi had disappeared from her sight. The tears rolling down her face. A little bit of her world had left in that taxi and she, ridiculous as it sounded, missed him already.

She accepted the arms that turned her round and held onto her. Breathing him in. Softly closing the door and leading her into the front room.

"Come on mate." He calmly said. "It's two days. He'll be fine."

"I bloody know that." She snapped. Then regretted it instantly as he pulled back from her slightly. "Sorry."

"It's alright Mols." Elvis accept the apology as they sat next to one another. "Guess I'll put that one, and the hysterics, down to hormones. Should I?"

Molly turned and looked initially angry at his almost patronising tone, then it hit her.

"Elvis. No. It ain't hormones." She smile patiently at him. "It's love."

She watched as her words sunk in. How he computed that this was what it felt like to be totally and utterly in love. When your heart totally belonged to someone else. And then he realised that was something he must never had truly had with Georgie.

"Shit." Realisation came. "Shit." Was all he said as he realised what Charles and Molly had and he hadn't. "Shit."

She watched him carefully, and then hesitated.

"You and Georgie...?" Molly questioned.

"Nah." He looked shell shocked. "Never. I mean I missed her and that. But I don't think I ever saw her cry when I left... and I mean that was me leaving for months."

He stared straight ahead of him as the cold truth hit him.

"I mean she might of the first time round, but never the second time we were together." Elvis dipped his head. "How stupid was I? Missed the bloody signs."

She bumped her shoulder into his.

"You can't think like that." She counselled. "What she did ain't right, never will be despite what went on before."

Elvis sat, quiet leaning back and eyes closed. After a while Molly was just about to get up and leave him, thinking him too deep in thought and self-pity for more conversation.

"I guess I've got to move on? Ain't I?" He said as she made her way to the door.

Being caught up in Elvis' troubles had for now stopped her tears over Charles, but she knew they'd be back soon. She knew until he returned she'd mourn him.

"Yeah. I guess you have." She replied. "As hard as that is." She sensibly offered, feeling slightly hypercritical as she never, over the years, moved on from Charles.

He nodded thoughtful, appreciating her honesty.

"You know I've been thinking about Debbie a lot lately." He admitted.

"Wow. Shit. Elvis." She spun round and stood in front of him. "That's not the way to do this. Get over one ex by going after another."

Molly knew Elvis and even this idea surprised her.

"No. No." He chuckled. "I meant I've been thinking about how I haven't been fair to her... or Laura."

All Molly could do was nod. In reality she thought Elvis' self-imposed limited contact with his daughter was lousy, but maybe now wasn't the time to say.

"You know... watching you and Charlie I see every day what I don't have... and I want that." He looked at her as she lowered herself onto the chair opposite him.

"I want a family. I want someone to cry when I walk out the door." He stated.

Molly's eyes filled with tears. She could see this larger than life, hard as nails, brilliant guy finally facing up to his past actions and regrets.

"Then you might have to do something about that then Elvis." Was all she said.

"I know Mols. I know." He shook his head. "I don't know what though."

She had no more words or advice, for now, so she left him to his own thoughts. Elvis had problems that only he could sort out.

"Oh buggery bugger." Molly shouted out while pulling herself up from the washing machine. "That's all I bloody need."

Elvis, alerted by her cry, came running into the utility room.

"Mols?"

"The bleeding washing machine has sprung a leak." She moaned out as she lifted her soggy feet frantically from the floor while rubbing her back. Annoyed as she had hoped to get the washing all done and tidied away before Charles came home from work.

Elvis, their almost permanent house guest, slowly walked over to her. Cautiously. He'd assessed the situation instantly.

"Err. Molls." He offered his hand to her as she watched him. "I'm no expert and that but I don't think it's the washing machine that sprung a leak." And he dipped his head to her belly.

She stared back at him, failing to understand at first. Then it hit her at exactly the same time as a contraction came.

"Shit." She cried out. Staring at an amused Elvis. "Me waters have broken. It's started."

The next few minutes were a round of activity. Elvis moved her into the kitchen, while trying to calm himself down. Amazed as he watch her grab her mobile and dial Charles' London office number, explaining all to him through the widest grin he'd ever seen.

The rehearsed plan being put into action. Molly in her finest moment, calm and collected. The day had finally come. Ten days overdue, Charles now returned from his trip, they were more than ready to welcome their baby into the world.

His only thoughts were of getting her there safely. Every bump in the road, every traffic light on red, were serious tests to his patience. He had his best mate's most precious cargo on board and didn't want to fuck this up like he felt he had done with almost everything else in his life recently. He was in sole charge. Charles would take over an hour to get from his office to the hospital. Up to then it was all down to Elvis.

He had so much to repay them. Over the past weeks they had been incredible friends to him. Taking him in, helping him sort out his life. Pointing him in the right direction, supporting him. He was a semi-permanent lodger now while he took some 'garden leave' from his job. Having time out, as Molly bluntly put it, taking sometime out to get that calmest in his nut.

He understood why his mate loved her. In a short space of time he could see how amazing she simply was. The numerous pregnancy induced insomnia filled nights she had simply sat with him, drinking tea, on the kitchen sofa, putting his world to rights. They laughed and joked, something he hadn't done for a while. Something he didn't think he'd do again. At times even finding himself smiling for no reason, apart from being in her company. Bonding with his best mate's girl. She was everything he needed.

She spent many an hour in the middle of the night helping him. Planning with him, supporting him. So much so they had actually come up with a plan. It wasn't going to easy, but Molly said, but she'd be there by his side to help, and that anything worth it never was. Tentative contact therefore was made with Debbie. Communications were opened, apologies offered, and reassurances given. All in the hope that someday, someday soon, he'd get the chance, an almost too late a chance, but still a chance to reconnect with his daughter.

Elvis was more nervous than he dared to admit. He was used to facing unpredictable situations, to thinking on his feet, but this was something else. Molly in his eyes was special, and quite amazing. She knew what to do and as he watched her almost an hour after getting to the hospital, panting through another contraction, he was amazed at how she coped with it all. His time as a soldier has shown him how to mentally prepare for pain, but watching Molly struggle he knew this was on another level. He was bowled over by her, always a bit unsure if the tales of her bravery and determination might have been a little bit exaggerated over the years, but watching her now he knew they weren't. She was just brilliant as they all said.

"Where the bloody hell is he." She groaned out flopping back onto the bed. "He promised he'd been here. He promised."

All Elvis could do was hold her hand. Unconsciously stroking her knuckle with his thumb as he did.

"He will. Don't worry. He's just stuck in traffic." His biggest fears since Molly's water broke, were close to being realised, Charles might actually miss the birth.

He knew it would shatter his best mate, if he missed this. He hoped he'd make it, but was more than willing to be there for her if he didn't.

She continued with the contractions for another hour, drawing on every bit of strength she had, as well as Elvis'. He held her, encouraged her with words the midwife told him to say, told her tales and checked his phone constantly for updates on Charles' location. He appreciated everything a woman went through in childbirth and realised just what he was missing out on.

He made it...It had been the drive of his life, but he made it.

As the clock ticked down the sickening feeling of letting her down was almost realised. Something he'd promised he'd never do.

He burst into her room. Clocking Elvis standing by her bedside holding her hand running his hand over her messed up hair. Greeted by a tired and exasperated Molly, her eyes flew open to see Charles. Full of apologies and worry for her, and the potential speeding fines he'd picked up on the way. Grateful for his mate who'd been there when he couldn't be. Grateful that Lady Luck had slowed down her delivery in time for him to be there.

"Charles." Was all she simply said when he arrived. Their lips clashing briefly in a desperate hello.

Her hours of waiting for him now over. Her hours of missing him, needing him simply disappeared. He was there just like he said he would be. Tall, toned, dressed in a smart navy suit, that usually hung crisply on his calm confident frame perfectly, today showed signs of his anxiety and urgent need to be with her. All other emotions were forgotten by then both and they held onto each other.

Elvis instantly stepped aside as Charles took over. He watched as Charles kissed her over and over again with apologies and with the same happy smile that she now had on her face. This was finally happening for them. This was their special time, yet he felt something he could only describe as sadness as he watched them.

He quietly left the room, his presence suddenly surplus. Talking up residence in the waiting area, feeling lost. Confused. Worried.

Charles stayed by Molly's side constantly. Amazed at how much he'd forgotten about it all from when Sam has been born. Amazed at the woman he loved going through this exhausting process to bring a new life into the world. For him. For them. Amazed when hours later he held in his arms a tiny bundle. A squirming, wrinkly, screaming little girl.

"Shit mate." Elvis said as he hugged him tightly. "That was intense."

Molly gave a tired giggle at his words.

"You should try it from my end mate." She joked back.

Charles grinned while running one hand through his hair while the other held very securely onto his new baby daughter. Elvis stepped back and took in his appearance…. ruffled. Charles' suit jacket and tie long since abandoned, and his shirt with sleeves rolled up past his elbows creased and marked. Yet Elvis could see nothing mattered to him apart from his two girls. They were now his world. A pang of envy popped inside of him.

Elvis had, as promised, stayed though it all. Offering coffee trips, and words of reassurance wherever he could. Now Molly was resting, her eyes starting to close, he looked at the new arrival, her daughter, small, loud, and almost as beautiful as, Elvis knew, Molly to be.

He strode across the room and kissed her on the cheek before she fell asleep.

"Congrats Molly." He spoke softly. Her eyes flashed open and she surprised him by pulling him in for a hug. A sweaty, damp, tight hug.

"Thank you." She said as she held him. "Elvis you were brilliant. Thank you." And then she went to kiss his cheek, and he moved his head slightly and in the dancing of their heads their lips briefly touched.

She giggled as she pulled away, a truly innocent accident in her eyes, she now focused solely on her daughter and her emotional husband. But for Elvis all changed. He heard them talking softly, and fixed a smile on his face, neutral, externally calm, but inside he was stirred up. The touch of her lips on his setting a potentially destructive fuse alight.

The touch of her lips, brief and accidental as it was, had set fire to some emotion in his heart.

She begged pleaded to be sent home as soon as she could, knowing she needed to be with her husband in their own home as soon as possible. And so the next afternoon found Molly walking gingerly through the front door to her home, with Charles and their baby girl.

"You know we're gonna have to give her a name soon." Molly said as she grateful sat down in the comfiest chair in the room, if not the world. The stitches she'd acquired a little bit more than sore.

Charles fussed around his two girls, as one slept and one teased him at his total inability to pick a name.

"I know." He smiled back watching this just over 24 hour old pink still bundle in front of him. She was his daughter, so far unnamed and he couldn't love her anymore. "We will."

"Well. You know my choices. Either one will do." Molly said lazily, putting her feet up. "Just make sure you have chosen before the grandparents arrive." And then she shut her eyes.

"So?" Elvis looked up as Charles quietly closed the lounge door and entered the kitchen. "Everything ok?"

He'd spent the day on tender hooks, inexplicably wanting nothing more than to see Molly, but knowing it wasn't his place.

She was home now, resting and he'd see her soon. In the mean time he'd made himself busy. Spent his time in looking after her home, making him worthy of her friendship.

His friend looked tired.

"Yeah." Charles sighed out. "All good."

A half uncomfortable silence fell over the friends as Charles laid himself fully stretched out on the kitchen sofa. His mind turning over the past events. Even though this was his second time, and Molly was not Rebecca, Charles still had his anxieties. Plus it was all so different this time, he'd almost forgotten what to do. Feeling monetarily as lost as any new parent does.

"Look mate. I can ship out." Elvis started, in a vain attempt to change his feelings. "You and Mols. You need to be alone, as a family and that."

Charles remained lying down, eaten up with guilt. He knew Elvis was right. Him and Molly needed this time on their own, but he couldn't just dismiss his mate. A friend who still needed their help. It wouldn't sit right with him and it wouldn't sit right, he knew with his kind hearted wife.

"No." Charles sat up. Staring at his friend's face and noticing how eaten up with anxiety it was. "No. You don't. That's not what we want." He smiled. "Stay. As long as you need to."

Their conversation stopped and a piercing scream came from the front room, filled by a groan from Molly, as she was startled awake

Charles looked at Elvis and grinned.

"Guess it's time for the milk bar to open."

He left them to it for a while. Listening to his friends engrossed in gloating over and delivering their daughter's every need.

Eventually peace reigned and he popped his head around the door, catching a glimpse of the idyllic scene in front of him.

Molly beamed at him and he struggled to know where to look as she held her daughter to her breast, feeding the beautiful little grub in her arms.

"Come here you idiot." Molly quietly called out. Watching him hesitate and embarrassingly hovering by the door way. "You're gonna have to get used to this. Now you're staying around for a bit."

She looked over at Charles who nodded at her while he returned his gaze to his family.

"You ok with that?" He asked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." She replied. "I like having you hear. It's nice."

Elvis heart did something funny at hearing those words, happy, relieved, because at that moment he didn't know what he'd do if he had to leave.

If he had to leave Molly.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hope you all remember this story and my up date isn't too late that you have all lost interest. Thanks to Debbie for her 'pushing' me on with this and being a fab Beta. x**

All Change

Chapter 15

She walked gently back down the stairs and settled herself in the living room. Not bothering to turn the lights on. She knew her way around. Besides she didn't want to disturb the baby that was whimpering in her arms. She wasn't settled, and Molly knew from the past three months' worth of experience that she probably wouldn't be for hours yet.

Since her and Charles had brought their daughter home they had fallen into a punishing routine that their baby girl insisted they followed.

The days and the nights were very much the same. Their little angel. Their Abigail, showing them who was boss. They danced to her tune, and although they adored her, they also longed for the time when she would allow them to have an unbroken night's sleep. Or at least Molly did. She was still up two, three times a night with her. Feeding, changing. Trying to calm her loud cries. Trying to her help with the colic she suffered from. Trying to let her know her Mummy was there for her always.

She knew she'd eventually settle. Eventually; but the nights were long. Especially when she did this alone. It wasn't fair to Charles to deprive him of his sleep too. Late nights and very early morning starts these past weeks already had done that to him. So as soon as the first cries of their daughter disturbed them Molly would swiftly move out of the bedroom. Quite often lately she'd be found by Charles the next morning holding Abigail in her arms, both fast asleep in the soft chair by the fire. Too tired to come back to their bed, too worried if she put Abigail back in the cot she'd wake again, and so she just accepted her fate and stayed downstairs.

Molly moved around the room. Turning the electric fire on and pulling the throw over closer to the chair she knew would be her resting place once again for the night. The chill in the air made her shiver. She missed her bed. She missed her husband, but she would never swap this night shift for anything. Her time to hold her cherub. Her time to bond. Her time to hold the one thing in her life, apart from Charles, that she never thought she'd get.

She turned her head as she heard the room door gently swing open. It was done delicately, and she smiled at how her daughter terrorised everyone in the household. She took no prisoners. Her guest knew he had to go gently in case he roused Abigail further. She beamed at him as she saw him. Hair messed up and face slowly throwing off the deep slumber he had just stirred from. He grinned back and pulled his hoodie over his sleep top.

"Tea?" He asked ever so softly.

"Please." She replied back as quietly. "Decaf." She reminded him.

Molly grinned and shushed a curious Abigail as she watched him walk into the kitchen. His slippered feet shuffling along the carpet which was proof he too was tired, so tired he couldn't pick his feet up properly.

She settled herself down and snuggled her now very full, and half asleep, daughter into her. And then she waited. It was their routine. For the past five or six weeks he had joined her at night every now and then. When his thoughts kept him awake too. Her fellow night owl and baby whisperer. Sometimes they'd talk. Sometimes they would just sit there watching the dawn come or day dreaming the time away, but once up with her he stayed with them. Never returned to his own bed. He stayed and she appreciated it.

"Finally, asleep?" He asked as he set down her tea next to her. Squeezing her shoulder as he did as a show of solidarity.

"For now." She raised her eyes to him in hope as he took the chair directly opposite her. It was cosy, it was contentment, and the room fell silent and settled.

"He still asleep?" Elvis asked pointing upwards talking about Charles. He knew he would be.

"Yeah. Lucky bastard." She giggled. "You should be too."

She had said that to him every night he had gotten up with her and Abigail, but just like all the other times she had said it he wave the comment away.

"Nah. It's alright. Not as though I've anything to get up for, or anyone have I?" He said it with such sadness, but realisation, that it broke Molly's heart.

"You will. One day." She kindly said.

He nodded. That was all.

It had been months since Elvis had had his heart broken by Georgie, but still he wasn't over it. He'd tried, said and did all the right things, but something about him still remained off. Molly and Charles had talked about it so many times to begin with. Had worried and tried, now though they just accepted it.

He still remained their house guest and still was mostly Molly's companion. A career break he'd told them initially, his choice, but both knew the truth. And so when he did go back to the job at the end of the month it was to something a lot softer to what he used to do. This time he was behind a desk, for now. Regular hours and regular home times.

So now instead of him being a brilliant, fearless SF soldier he now was Molly's brilliant but lost shadow. Often home alone with her, when Charles was caught up with his work. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her and Abigail. He talked, and he helped. He did dirty nappies, he burped, he did housework and chores. Taking pride in it all. The only things he had confidence in doing for now.

The whole, becoming a mother thing, a little bit later on in life for Molly had been a joy; totally joyful, but one hell of a shock too, especially as Abigail was not an easy baby. Baby eczema, and colic all caused baby Abigail to be fractious and demanding, and at times they all struggled. All found it hard seeing the little bundle that they loved so much squirming and twisting in pain. There had been some hard days and nights and when Charles hadn't been around, thankfully Elvis had been. She appreciated his huge support, and had depended on him heavily at times. He'd been there for reassurance, suggestions and someone to hold the baby while she did such decadent things like have a shower.

They were now though coming to the end of these bad days and nights. Abigail was in less discomfort as each day passed. All became more relaxed and confident in their roles. Molly and Charles had only to work on Abigail's sleeping routine and all could see better times ahead.

Her world and everything in it had been turned in its head when Abigail arrived. Yet she wouldn't have wanted it any other way, but still she craved a degree of normality. She wanted to lie in bed next to Charles and be held by him again. She wanted one day where she wasn't covered in baby puke, or plagued by lank greasy hair. She wanted to put on clothes, that didn't have to be fasten down the front for once, and most of all she wanted to be a wife again to her husband. She wanted to see desire and lust in his eyes when he looked at her. Afraid at times all he saw now of her as was Abigail's mummy.

Her nocturnal routine and absence from the marital bed, so frequently, had made her and Charles on a physical level to be absent from one another too. The presumed post birth waiting out time had now well and truly passed, but still they hadn't made love. She now longed for him like she had longed for him in the beginning. She worried about her changed body shape, about her need to feed her child as nature intended, and wondered if all of this changed the way he thought about her. About how he wanted her. It scared her.

Her thoughts and concerns about her marriage, and the loss of a little bit of her and Charles had made her quiet for a while. When she emerged from her night dreams she saw Elvis still sat opposite her, his eyes half closed and not attempting to disturb them.

"Finally." Molly sighed looking at her baby. "She's definitely asleep" Molly whispered still holding on to her daughter. "You should go up."

"No, I'll stay." Said Elvis, as he snuggled down further into the chair.

He stayed because she just might need him. She had times before. She might just have started to depend on him as he had her. The truth was he loved those times with Molly. In the middle of the night. It was during those hours that he always felt wanted, needed and secure. Just him, Molly, and her little bundle she held lovingly in her arms. This beautiful woman, whose beauty he appreciated more and more each and every day. It was a world he'd never known, expected and found he liked it.

He tried. He tried very hard. It was the longest and hardest battle he had ever been involved in. But he was losing it, and losing it fast. He was starting to fall head over heels in love with Molly. His best mate's wife. His God daughter's mother. His friend, and there was little, he felt, he could do about it.

It was all so unfair and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt anyone. He often wondered if Molly knew, but never once doubted that she would never return his feelings. That was obvious, the way she looked at Charles showed there was no room in her heart for anyone but her husband, and their daughter. He knew though she loved him. But she loved him as a friend, that was all.

Elvis had pride. He was a decent man, who followed a strict code. He had his loyalty to his friend to remember. His closest most supportive of friends. He couldn't steal his wife away from him even if he had really wanted to. And so Elvis stayed quiet and chose instead to be Molly's close companion and helper. Rather than her lover.

"Thought it could just be the three of us?" Charles asked the next day hopefully.

Today was a good day. Today was a day he had finally found time to clear his schedule and was hoping to spend some much needed time with his family. His girls.

The past months, since Abigail had arrived he had almost split himself in two. He hadn't wanted to miss anything about his daughter's life, had wanted to be there for Molly; but the bad timing of a takeover he was heavily involved in, and the increase to his headaches meant that more often as not his did miss out. Forced night and days away with work, late meetings, delayed home times, all kept him away from his girls. He felt guilty and he felt robbed.

Today though he had hoped to readdress that balance. To take Abigail and Molly out. To enjoy some fresh air and family time. He had expected her to be happy but wasn't that surprised when she hesitated.

"What about Elvis?" She had asked straight away.

It made him feel sad that her first words hadn't been to thank him, or to feel happiness at spending time together. Instead her first thought had been for Elvis.

On hearing his name he popped his head around the kitchen door. Raising his eyebrows in question.

"Charles was suggesting a day out." Molly said happily turning to him.

Elvis immediately read the situation before him. He noticed how Charles had pulled himself up to his full height and swooped in to pick his daughter up from the Moses' basket she'd been wiggling in. Then he moved to stand close to Molly. Elvis saw it all. How Charles subconsciously claimed both her and the baby as his.

Elvis smiled at his friend and received a brief smile back. Appreciating it all. He knew that Charles knew, and he knew it was time to stop the fantasy that he sometimes ran away with, that he had a future with Molly.

"Nah. You guys go." He said nonchalantly. Not missing the very brief smile of gratitude that spread across Charles' face.

Had he not been already set on his course of action he would have been hurt by the speed they accepted his offer, and moved to leave, without him. But he wasn't. He was doing this for her. For Molly. She didn't need complications. She didn't need upset. She needed and deserved Charles and their family.

"This is proper nice." She said as she turned around and pecked him on the nose. Each day she was becoming more confident and Abigail was become more settled. Easier. Into a routine.

"It is." He replied as he looked into the pram to marvel at the swaddled up form that was finally sleeping peacefully.

She moved closer to where he was sitting on the park bench, and skilfully snuggled herself in between his legs. Her back resting on his front. Her head rolling back on to his chest. He accepted her readily.

"This is even nicer." He happily sighed.

She turned her head slightly and he took the opportunity to kiss her neck. That special part of her neck which only he ever knew where to kiss. She let out a soft groan, happy with his attention. She quivered at his touch and the memory of them.

"Missed this." She said contently. "Peace. Quiet. You 'n' me." She added with a bit of embarrassment. The smell of him, his touch. The way his arms wrapped about her body as she sat there stirred something deep inside her. A stirring she had missed.

"Miss it too. Miss you." He held her tighter. "Miss waking up next to you. That beds big and cold without you."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. Just thought with all your work...and headaches you needed the sleep." She'd explained it to him before. Her reasons why she had semi deserted their bed. She had just wanted to help and needed him to understand that was the only reason.

He been so involved with Abigail she could understand why he missed them. In the beginning he'd been up with her every night. They had paced the floor together trying to get Abigail to sleep, but they both quickly learnt that it wasn't a two person job. So they then swapped to looking after their daughter in shifts. Her for one of the feeds. Charles using her expressed milk for the other, but that just resulted in them both being exhausted and unproductive the next day. Then Charles' headaches came back and he became incapacitate with them. With the headaches and his sudden ramped up workload, Molly knew that sleep was what he needed. And so, she withdrew from him at night to allow him to sleep.

So, for many weeks as soon as Abigail started her midnight screaming serenade Molly had taken up the habit of leaving him in bed to sleep, while she dealt with the problem. He felt cheated, but understood. He accepted that it wasn't forever. But then he discovered that Elvis often joined her at night, taking on his role; and where once he felt loss, now he felt jealousy.

"I know. Think things should be better from here on in." He kissed her head. "Less crazy for me work wise."

"That's good." She sighed. "Maybe you'll even be home for tea some nights?" She hopefully asked.

"Definitely. Well I'll try my best. And." He hesitated. "Maybe I'll get my wife to stay in bed with me all night again?"

"I'd like that." She smiled looking across at their baby girl. "If you're sure? I only leave cause I worry about you."

"I know, but I don't want you to leave anymore. Stay. Please." He asked.

"What about your headaches." She asked. She was concerned.

"I'm sure I'll cope." He reassured her. "I just miss you both when you leave. That's worse." He said simply and honestly.

He would never admit to his other feelings of envy that another man got to share those hours with his wife and daughter. While he slept away alone in their bed.

They sat soaking up their time together and watched the world go by. Making the odd comment about nothing in particular as the afternoon rolled on. Just totally content being in each other's company, to be part of each other's worlds once more.

"What we gonna do about him." Molly suddenly asked.

"Who?" Charles looked around to see who she was referring to but knowing really who she meant.

"Elvis." She said sheepishly.

"Oh." He was curious as to where this was going.

Molly shifted around to look at Charles.

"It's not that I don't. Cause I do. Love having him to stay... it's just well... sorry. He's your mate. No sorry. I shouldn't have said."

She stopped herself with a dramatic shake of her head. "I don't want to be mean. Or unkind or anything." She said very quietly.

"You think it's time he moved on?" Charles asked startled by her being the one bringing up the subject. But she always had been the braver one out of them both.

"No. Well yeah." She looked at him with a pained face. "Does that make me a bad person?" She asked of him.

"No." He kissed the top of her nose. "No one could ever accuse you of that."

"So, what do you think?"

"I think I might make you right." He said softly and then with force. "No you are right. It's time for him to move on."

Suddenly Abigail woke and demanded her mother's attention. The conversation stalled as Molly got herself comfortable as Charles reached down and lifted up his baby girl. He took a few moments of her crying as he tried to settle her, checked her nappy and simply enjoyed the pleasure of holding her. Unable to comfort her though fully he moved to pass her over to Molly.

"She definitely wants you." He laughed as he watched his hungry daughter fuss momentarily then latch onto Molly's breast with force.

There was a moments silence, apart for the content sucking noises Abigail was making.

He poured Molly some water from a bottle they had brought, and then rearranged her coat over her shoulders to give her privacy and comfort. It was a beautiful early autumn day, but he still worried about both his ladies. He then sat down next to them. Guarding them and available to meet their every whim.

He marvelled each day at how natural all this was for Molly. Unfairly comparing her to Rebecca, and how she hadn't coped. He knew it had been hard work for her though. The dark circles some days under her eyes testament to that fact. Molly was nearly 40, and had found being a first time mother a surprising and worthy challenge. Yet from what he saw she had coped well. He knew she had insecurities about her body, and the changes carrying Abigale had made, but to him it mattered not. She was his Molly. The woman he'd wanted for most of his adult life, and now he had her and nothing would ever change that.

"It's just." She said quietly as she swapped Abigail onto her other breast, and continued once she was settled. "I see him looking at me at times and he's so sad."

Charles just nodded. Sitting to her side he threw one arm around his wife, while allowing his daughter to wrap her tiny fingers around one of his. Not letting him move away from her despite the ache he felt in his arm as he held it up. Months old and already she controlled both her parents to do her bidding.

"It must be hard for him." She looked at Charles. "Don't you think. Seeing us. Happy. It must hurt him."

Charles smiled, a knowing smile, but a sad one.

"What?" She asked as she reached over to stroke his cheek. "I know that smile." She was confused.

"He is sad Molly. You're right." Charles said slowly and carefully.

"But?" She pulled her hand back as she stroked Abigail's head. Needing to touch her just as much as she needed to touch Charles. She focused on her baby gentle sucking on her and felt so happy.

"He's in love with you Molly." Charles said softly.

Her head whipped up, and the moment of contentment she had just felt was replaced by horror. Charles knew!

He watched as her face twisted from shock to utter guilt. "You know." She croaked out. "How? When?"

He raised his eyes and lifted his baby away from her as it was obvious she had finished feeding. He expertly put her over his shoulder to wind her, and Molly took her time and wrapped herself back up.

"Think we should walk. Don't you." He said manoeuvring the pram with one hand and supporting his daughter on his shoulder with the other.

She was shocked at his statement that it took her moments to catch up to him. His long strides out pacing hers.

"How? I mean when did you?" She began as she caught up with him on the path by the duck pond. "When?"

Charles turned to her kindly and accepted the silent offer of her taking over pushing the empty pram.

"You're very easy to love." He said with a sad smile. "So easy. I've known for a while."

"Shit." She blew out and kicked her foot off the ground. "Buggery shit." He smiled at her.

She didn't know where to start. She had hoped this would all just go away. "I thought at first it was just me." She began. "Me hormones and that, I was imagining it" She grimaced hating that excuse. "But then the more time I started to spend with him. The more I realised."

Charles re-position Abigail after her post lunch belch and carried her snuggled into his winter coat. "I guess with me working late and being away at times hasn't helped either." He sighed running his free hand though his hair.

She turned to look at him. He was deep in thought and looked so sad. "Nah. That's not right. None of this is your fault. You know that don't you Charles." She shoulder bumped him playfully hating to see him upset. "You can't help who you fall in love with. Can you?"

"I guess not." He agreed. "But shit Molly. Elvis, fucking Elvis?"

"I know! Who'd have thought?" She stopped suddenly. Something just crossed her mind. "Shit Charles you don't think I'm in love with him too. Do you?"

Charles threw his head back and laughed, a proper loud amused laugh. Abigail protested and Molly took her from him and settled her back into the pram. As she straightened up she felt his warm arms surround her.

"No Molly. Not for one moment, not one second did that ever cross my mind." He kissed her on the lips and felt her body sink into his with relief.

"And I've never done anything to encourage him either you know that too don't you?" She raised her head for confirmation of his belief in her innocence.

"I know." He squeezed her and she let out a playful yelp as her tender breasts felt the pressure. "You don't have to do anything Molly. You just have to be you, and that's why he's fallen for you."

She tilted her head to show him she didn't quite believe his complement. "I love you Charles. You know that? For me there's only ever been you".

"I know, never doubted that-and I love you too." He kissed into her hair.

They held each other for a while longer then started back towards the car.

"What the bleeding hell we gonna do?" She asked.

And her question was greeted by a silent smile from Charles, but she could see he was equally out of answers as her.

Sadly, he just shook his head. "I don't know Molly. I really don't bloody know."


	16. Chapter 16

**All Change**

**Chapter 16**

"Hello you." He kissed her briefly and moved his attention straight away to the bundle she was holding in her arms.

"Hello." She beamed back at him once he finally looked at her again. She couldn't blame him though; their daughter was a beauty to look at.

"God that smile!" He signed as his daughter rewarded her Daddy with her best attempt. Oh how Molly loved this man as she watched him her heart melted.

"You, Mrs James, have just made my day even better than it was." His happiness wasn't only reserved for his daughter. He pulled her in for a hug too.

Molly smiled, bit her lip and blushed. Smelling him, feeling his heat again she began remembering the cuddles and sharing of love they had partaken of before he had left for work that morning.

Molly had woken up that morning. Refreshed. Almost felt normal and had moved herself so close to him that he responded in kind. Making love to her like they used to. Loving her as he always did. So that when he did leave for work she felt bereft and made her mind to surprise him. She just wanted to be near him again.

And so she packed Abigail's bags, and made an extra effort then drove them both into the city to his office to surprise visit him. Something she rarely did, just secretly checking with his secretary first that he'd be there, and then just left.

Her unannounced arrival caused a little disturbance in his office as most of the office moved to see Abigail and offer their best wishes. They were more than curious to see the off spring and wife of their elusive Boss. Initially Molly had been swamped with his work colleagues attentions and demands of wanting a cuddle of their daughter. Charles saw it all and it therefore had taken him a good few minutes before he was able to greet her himself. Though he'd been enormously proud and took a few moments watching them, and then once again he knew just how lucky he was.

When he did greet her she knew she had made the right decision. He was as happy to see her as she was to be there.

Quickly the rest of the office team left them alone and he steered her to his office.

"Thought you might like to take us out for lunch?" She said as she sat down to unclipped Abigale from her carrier.

Charles automatically reached over to help and moved to sit next to her on the chair in his office. They worked as a team now in everything.

"That would be my pleasure." He bent over and kissed her. "Perfect timing."

She just smiled at him and giggled.

"And there's you saying you never did perfect Mrs James." He chuckled out. "I'm a lucky man."

He watched as her smile stayed for a while on her face and then he saw it fade.

"Everything ok?" He asked as he tidied a few papers up on his desk. He'd perfected the look down his nose over his glasses that were perched their perfectly.

"Yeah." And shrugging her shoulders she worried about changing the happy mood they were both in she added. "Just thought I'd go and stay with your Mum and Dad for a few nights."

"Why?" He asked, but he knew.

"Well I thought. You know?" She avoided eye contact with him.

"Yeah. I know." He said sadly as he scratch his head with a pen he'd started to play with. "I agree. Think it's a good idea. But I'll miss you."

"I'm sorry." She said too quietly. "It's all my fault."

That he could not take. He rushed over to her as he held tightly onto her and their baby. Quickly kneeling down in front of her. Offering himself at her feet.

"None. Of. This. Is. Your. Fault." He said slowly and sternly. The way he used to in the days he wore low slung combats and dusty clothes.

Stoking his face. She twisted hers in half belief.

"Kind of feels like it is though." And dropped her eyes from his stare.

He held her hand and guided her to stand. Tilting her chin so she could do nothing but look at him.

"Molly. It's not. No one thinks that. Elvis won't. I don't. No one."

She weakly smiled.

"It's just pretty blood awkward though ain't it?" 

Charles nodded.

"I'll talk to him. Make him understand." He held her now tightly. "Don't worry Molly it will be fine."

"You'll be kind and that though won't you?" She asked scared Elvis was going to get hurt.

"I'll be kind." He reassured her. Loving that no matter what she had the kindest heart he knew.

"You know she once made me a curry. Back then." Charles laughed sadly he toyed with his food. He was pretending to eat more than he was. He was nervous and uncertain.

Tonight it was just him and Elvis. Molly still visiting his parents and he'd promised her he'd talk to Elvis while she was away. Tonight therefore was to be the night.

"Yeah?" Elvis said. Instantly interested when he realised who Charles was talking about.

"Yeah." Charles smiled at a memory from nearly twenty years ago. "It was bloody awful. A packet thing her Nan had sent her." He paused as it all came flooding back. "She insisted she took out the basics we had and added her packet sauce to them to give us the 'best Ruby Murray' we'd ever tasted.

"Rank? Yeah?" Elvis asked dipping in to the dishes in front of them.

Tonight was take away night. Curry night. The two boys, one set curry for two, and the intention of several beers to go along side.

"Just dreadful." He said with total honesty. He nodded his head as he stuffed a fork full of rice into his mouth. "But me and the rest of two section ate it any way. Offered her compliments and told her it was the best we'd ever had...her face was a picture. She beamed for hours after that." Charles sat himself back in the chair shaking his head in wonder. "That's when I first knew."

Elvis merely raised his eyes. At that moment in time he wasn't expected to talk. Just listen.

"The way she lit up with the praise. She'd been so nervous putting herself out there. Cooking for us, that when we did compliment her, she nearly burst with pride. Not cause her cooking was good, but cause she'd made us happy."

He moved for two more beers. He needed the Dutch courage.

Charles continued.

"That night was the night when it first struck me that I was totally in love with her. Head over heels."

He let his words just hang there. Watching his mate.

"Take it you've never told her it was shit?" Elvis asked laughing. Saluting his friend with the new bottle he'd been passed.

"God no." Charles replied taking a swig. "She still doesn't know. I could never hurt her, and tell her."

"Know what you mean." Elvis replied and a sad small smile came to his face. "You never talked about her... did you? Back then I mean."

"I couldn't. It hurt too much." Charles said. "I thought I'd lost her."

"But you loved her? All that time?" Elvis asked.

"Every single day." He admitted. "Seems unbelievable I know. But I did."

Elvis shook his head.

"No not unbelievable at all." He said quietly.

They ate on in silence. Neither enjoying the food as much as they should have. Unable to continue small talk the food therefore was their focus. Both struggling with their internal thoughts.

Eventually Elvis spoke.

"You're lucky. You know that? She's one special lady." He said it quietly and kept his eyes down on his food.

"I know." Charles placed his fork down. He was done. "Mate..." He began.

Elvis' head whipped up. The tone worried him.

"I know." Charles said gently. "We both know."

He thought about denying it, but realised there'd be no point to that. Besides he didn't want to deny his feelings for her. That would be wrong.

"Fuck." He choked back a sob that threatened to show itself. "Mate. You have to believe me I never meant to." He pleaded his cause.

"I know." Charles said magnanimously. "We both know."

"Molly knows too?" Elvis cried.

Charles just nodded.

There was no need for any further words on the subject. Neither of them needed to spell it out. Neither of them wanted to hear the words allowed. There was only so much the human heart can tolerate.

They dodged around each other as they tidied the take away cartons and left over food away. Briefly acknowledging each other's presence. Charles was keen to allow them both to escape.

"So what now?" He asked just as Elvis made his way to the kitchen door.

Elvis stopped and kept his back to him. Couldn't look at the husband of the woman he loved. Knowing now he had no choice.

"Reckon it's time I moved on." He said so very sadly. "Found a new home. New life for me."

"Yeah." Was all Charles said. It sounded like a plan.

Elvis turned.

"I'll get out of your hair before Molly comes back."

"Mate. Elvis. That's not what this is about." He offered back.

"I know, but it's time." He looked down at his feet. Avoiding contact. "It's just time. You and her... well I'd never... you know that?"

"Yes."

"Just a bit fucking lost Charlie. That's all. If I'm totally honest mate." He admitted with a small hitch to his voice. "Feels as though me hearts been ripped out, after Georgie. And Molly... well she's Molly and that."

Charles moved forwards and placed a hand on Elvis' shoulder.

"If there was any other way. If you could stay... but you can't. For everyone's sake." He added. "We'll always be here for you though. Always."

Elvis stood tall and looked at Charles.

"I know. And thank you. You and Molly. Well." He snorted out. "You know how I feel. You're the best. Love you both. Which is why I have to go." He added simply.

And with that he turned on his heels and left.

He hated to see her cry. Hated the pain she was going through, but there was little he could do about it, except be there. As he drove he turned and watched the tears flow down her face. She offered him a watery smile but he knew it was false. She had been like this for the past hour and a half. The guilt was killing him.

"You know we don't have to." He offered for the numerous time. "We can turn around at any time you want." He reached across and grabbed her hand.

She waved his offer away as she dabbed her eyes. She knew that this was important to him, and to her as well. She just had to stick with the plan.

They're drove on in silence for many more miles. The radio and her quiet sobs the only interruption.

"Molly." He eventually said. "Please don't. This is hard for me too."

"I know." She nodded. "Just ignore me I'm being silly."

"No you're not." He said with force. "Really you're not. I understand."

She looked at him and as her eyes cleared she saw for the first time how sad he looked too. That he felt the separation just as much as her.

"Right." She said decisively. Scrunching up her tissue and stuffing it up her sleeve. "Enough."

"We're allowed to miss her a bit though aren't we?" He asked.

"A whole lot of bleeding yes." She replied. "But let's make the most of it. Yeah?"

He nodded and they held hands. Slowly they chatted about mundane topics, and slowly they got better.

This was their special treat to each other. A night away in a fancy hotel.

Alone.

Abigale was now six months old and for the first time they had left her with Charles' parents.

For one whole night and one whole day. It was just going to be the two of them.

For both of them felt though as if they had had a limb torn from them. They missed her so much.

Molly tried hard. Charles had gone to so much effort. She smiled happily as she entered the room, said all the right things, and kissed him.

"I'm just gonna." She said nodded to the bathroom door and he smiled.

"Go." He offered back. "I'll unpack." And he watched her take a small bag with her into the bathroom.

It was half an hour or so later that she emerged. Her body wrapped in the complimentary dressing gown and her face pink and rosy from the bath she had been wallowing in. The used breast pump in her hands.

He jumped up immediately from what he was doing.

"Any better?" He asked as he knew she'd been uncomfortable for the last part of the journey. Her leaking breasts a painful reminder of their separation from their daughter.

"God yeah!" She smiled. "Just seems such as waste. This pumping and dumping."

He walked over to her. Slowly and with a trace of worry. This time alone was important to them, but he knew it came at a cost.

"One night Molly. That's all. You've left enough behind for Mum to feed her with. She'll be fine." He reassured her.

"I know." Her smile all most convinced him. "So since I'm free for the night think maybe I could have half a glass of wine?" She smiled.

"Of course." He moved straight away to the wine bucket that she'd spotted on their arrival. He set to pouring them both a modest glass.

"I saw you know?" She said as she settled down on the bed and accepted the wine. "What you were doing when I came out."

He looked at her guilty. Stood by the bed side and shuffled his feet. But he said nothing.

"That said I know it wasn't your Mum. Cause I've been texting her while I was in the bath!"

"No." Was all he said. "It wasn't."

She leaned forwards and pulled him to sit down. Next to her.

"Elvis?"

"Yeah." Charles admitted. "He's got a front line posting again. Heads off in a couple of weeks."

"And?" Molly asked. "What else?"

"He wants to meet." Charles looked at her shyly. "Coffee or a drink."

"That's nice. You gonna go?" She asked confused by his hesitating.

"Wants to meet us both!" He said softly as he sat down next to her. "What do you think?"

That surprised Molly as she hadn't seen him for over three months. Had known that she would see him one day soon but, just not this soon.

"He says it's important." Charles added. "Reading between the lines think he off somewhere a bit tasty."

Molly looked surprised at how Charles had phrased that last sentence. She knew that there was more to Elvis' mission that he wasn't letting on.

"Then I think we should meet. Don't you?" She replied.

"Yes. I do. Molly. I do."

"And so do I Charles." She replied. "So do I."

She remembered those words six months later and had been so glad that they agreed to meet him.

That they spent time seeing him again.

That they had righted the things that had somehow gone wrong with their friendship. That they sent him off happy and confident that he hadn't fucked everything good up in his life once again.

It had been awkward at first. It had been fraught, clumsy and with a tentative start, but ultimately friendship won out. Ultimately common sense and love ruled the day. These three friends parted just as that, with promises of being together again soon.

Six months that's all it had been and now here they were. Time had moved on. They had moved on, but still they remembered.

Six months and they were standing there without him.

Charles stood with two of the women who deserved his love either side of him. Holding on to them both as they sobbed into his arms. Sobbed for the love they had lost. Sobbed for their friend. Sobbed for the man they called Elvis.

It hadn't been routine. It had been difficult and it had been high risk from the start, but still he choose to do it.

The powers above down played it at first, but soon even they realise that there was no was escaping it and the mission had failed.

For two months there had been no word from him or about him.

No communication of any type.

Molly only knew little bits; certain Charles knew more and kept the details away from her. When the word did come through about him though it was the worst.

A body dumped in the jungle. No identifying marks, just one tattoo on his arm and that was enough. The name of his daughter and dental records confirmed to all that Elvis had not gotten out of this last mission alive.

That Lady Luck had caught up with him, and he now slept the eternal sleep he always knew he would.

Ironically Charles had been the first to be informed of his death.

A pact from years ago when they had served together, that they would be their 'bad news guy' for each other. So when the soldiers turned up on their doorstep that sunny Sunday afternoon Molly just had to stand by and watch her brave husband listen to the news and take it all in.

Controlled, practical and efficient. That was what she saw right up until the point he closed the door on his unwelcome visitors and then he turned and cried.

He cried for everything that he had lost. That they had lost and that Elvis would now longer have.

Molly held him and loved him. He talked about his friend. The scrapes they had been involved in and he shared his grief with her. Never imagining that it could ever be any different. She was there for him just like he was there for her... always.

The sadness though for Charles didn't stop there. He had also been tasked with telling Debbie, and to an extent Laura too. That the man they both had been growing close to over the years was now no longer there for them. That the man who once had been missing in their lives would now be missing forever.

Molly offered to go with him, but that was the one and only thing that Charles did alone. He felt he wanted to shield Molly away from that for now. That telling a daughter their daddy wasn't coming home was too real. But that was the only thing he did without her. He had seen too many marriages; relationships fail where couples didn't talk. Where they chose to close themselves off to each other, and he knew that would never be them.

And so that was why today he stood at the front of the church with the rest of Elvis' family supporting both Molly and Debbie alike. By helping them he felt as though he was doing this one last thing for his best mate, he was helping Elvis too.

The service was everything Elvis would have said he hated, but secretly would have loved. Charles had always known what he had wanted and within the space of a week of his body returning and death notifications made Charles, with Elvis' parents, had arranged his best mate's funeral. A full military honours funeral, lots of brass there and plenty of tears.

Nice things were said about him, and stories were told.

As Charles looked around the church he realised two things. Just how loved Elvis was, and how grateful that he was no longer in the military and at risk of ever putting Molly through such a service again for someone she loved.

"I loved him too." She said as she slipped into his knee later that night.

Molly had tucked Abigail up for the night and had come down to find Charles at the end of the garden. Absent mindlessly moving slowly on the family swing chair. In his hand he held a crystal glass with dark amber liquid in, and at his feet stood the bottle and a spare glass.

"Everyone loved him." Charles smiled as he leaned down and picked the spare glass and bottle up to her. "That was very obvious today."

He poured her a token measure of the liquid. Then putting the bottle down he slipped her off his knee and stood them both up, gently holding on to her waist with his spare arm.

Raising a glass to the sky.

"To Elvis. A good friend. A good soldier, and someone I'm going to bloody miss."

She clinked his glass and in tandem they shot back the burning liquor.

He sat down heavily and she gently placed an arm on his shoulder.

"Bed?" She offered. "It's been a hell of a day. Of a week." She knew he'd say no.

Molly knew he'd stay downstairs in the garden for a lot longer.

Knocking back the painful drink. Each time toasting his friend.

She had seen it before, a ritual in some military families, and expected nothing less from her loyal husband.

"I'll stay." He apologetically smiled at her and kissed the top of her head. "For a while." He promised.

She hugged him.

"Take as long as you need." She smiled at him and started walking away.

The doorbell rang and frantic knocking followed. Molly who'd already been making her way upstairs rushed to open it. Fearing who was on the other side. Fearing what bad news the open door would bring.

She didn't call for Charles. She had left him alone to his thoughts and whisky.

"Did you know?" She said as soon as the door was opened. "Did you know?" She half strangled out with pain and anger.

"Yes." Was all Molly could answer. Stepping aside as Georgie walked in

She turned angrily.

"Then why?" She asked. "Why did no one tell me? Why?"

Molly stood there mute. Sad that through all that had happened she had never once thought of Georgie. That in their grief over Elvis' loss they never once considered her.

It was obvious that they were wrong. And it was obvious now that Georgie had found out.

"I was going to marry him." She sobbed out. "He was my everything, and no one told me."

The tears were now rolling down her face. Her hair was messed up and mascara was running in large fast rivers down her face.

Molly unsure what to do. Her heart wanted to pull her in for comfort but her loyalty to her dead friend and the pain this woman had inflicted on him stopped her.

"When. How?" Was all Georgie asked.

Molly moved closer and suggested they move into the kitchen. Unhappy about all the noise and the potential threat it was to disturbing Abigail.

Georgie followed and settled herself down in the chair Molly offered and she used the tissues she had supplied.

"I just got back to camp today." She hiccupped through her tears. "Been always for a few months. When I heard." She broke down fully.

"I mean I can't..." She attempted to say but couldn't.

Molly couldn't stop herself. Her heart was too big. She moved to hug her as she sat.

Georgie moulded herself onto Molly's arms. They stayed like that for minutes as Georgie's heart broke again and again.

They both turned at the same time as the patio door opened and in walked Charles. His gait slightly unsteady, and his eyes red.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He snapped, and Molly shot him a warning look.

Georgie almost recoiled at the sharpness of his tone.

"She's only just heard." Molly explained to Charles. "She's upset."

"You never told me." Georgie said. "Thought you would have." And then she stopped; taking in Molly's black dress and Charles' dark trousers and black tie half undone around his neck. "Shit. Please." She wailed. "Please don't tell me the funeral..." But she didn't finish.

"Yeah." Molly said softly. "Today."

"I never got to say goodbye." She said looking at them both for understanding. "Never got to tell him I still loved him."

As she buried her head in her hands both Charles and Molly looked at one another hesitating for a moment as to what was the right thing to do.

Yet they both knew what that was. They both knew what they had to do. Here was the woman that Elvis had once loved. Had once wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but fate and revenge had prevented that, but still she was the one Elvis had loved.

She stayed with them for nearly four days. Molly insisted and Charles didn't argue.

Georgie needed them.

She needed to grieve, and they were the only ones she could turn to.

She spent most of the time curled up on the sofa, sobbing and talking to Charles, who she held almost hostage like in the sitting room with her, wanting to hear about how he had died.

The two of them stayed close. Charles felt loyalty and empathy towards her. She had lost him too. They looked through old photo albums of a young Elvis and younger Charlie.

Every free moment Charles had Georgie asked him to tell her stories of their friendship, of his life before and after her.

She hung onto his every word. Stared at his beautiful face as sometime it was wrapped in happiness with the memories, and others times in the sadness of it all.

Sometimes Molly joined them. Listened too, but other times her day was just too full with Abigail, and she left them alone. Knowing that possibly this was just something that her Charles had to do.

"Thank you." She said to him one night as he started to make his way up to bed. He longed to be held by Molly again. The last few days had been emotionally draining for him and he felt he had neglected his wife and daughter whilst spending time with Georgie. "You were a good friend to him." Georgie smiled.

"He was a good friend to have." Charles sadly replied back.

As he tuned to go Georgie grabbed his hand.

"Charlie." She said softly. "These past few days. Well they have meant a lot. You're always there for me aren't you?" She waited for his reply. "I mean I feel like we've really bonded. Thank you."

He felt uncomfortable under her touch. Felt nothing but the need to get to the loving embrace of his wife. His head throbbed from the intensity of it all. He need his wife's arms to sooth him.

And so he merely nodded at her. And started to move again.

She allowed him to pull his hand away softly but she claimed his forearm. Slowly running her hand up and down it. It felt wrong to him and he stilled wondering what to do. It was too much.

"Did he ever find anyone else?" She suddenly asked. "To love?" Looking at him deeply and intensely.

That stopped him. All thought went. He just listened more.

"I mean. I still loved him enough to want him to have been happy. To have found someone else." She explained still holding his gaze. "He deserved that after what I did to him." She shook her head at the memory. Conflicted with what she felt and what she wanted to hear.

"Yes." Charles replied. "Yes he did." It hurt him to say it but he knew it was true. Elvis had found love again after Georgie.

She hadn't expected that reply. It shocked her. She had expected that Elvis would have spent the rest of his life bed hopping in an attempt to forget the pain she had caused him, and would never replace her in his heart.

"Oh!" She said shocked. "Was it serious?" She asked. Her heart hurt.

"Yes." Charles said. Believing what he was saying. "I think it was. For him at least."

"She never loved him?" Georgie asked. "She didn't feel the same?"

"It was complicated." He replied. "There was love there, but it was more complicated than that." He bravely defended his wife. Innocent in all this.

"Who?" Were her next words. "Who was she?" Georgie asked.

"You don't know her." Charles replied with loyalty. Protecting both his wife and his friend.

"She was lucky." Was all Georgie finally said in the matter as Charles left the room.

A sense of relief at now being apart from her washed over him. He felt as though he had survived.

He heard her words and agreed with them silently, and also realised not for the first time that it was he who was the truly lucky one.

It had all changed.

He had now had Molly in his life.

He was the one she loved and she was the one he loved and nothing, no one could ever break that bond.

Their love for each other, well that would never change.


End file.
